OF 


& 

3485 


CROMWELL. 


AN    HISTORICAL    NOVEL. 


AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  BROTHERS,"  &c. 
v 

\ 


"  Yet  is  (he  tale,  true,  though  it  be,  as  strance, 
As  full,  inethinks,  of  wild  and  wondrous  change, 
As  any  that  'he  wandering  tribes  require, 
Sirelch'd  in  the  desert  round  their  evening  fire; 
As  any  sung  of  old  in  hall  or  bower 
To  minstrel  harps  at  midnight's  witching  hour." 

ROGERS. 


IN     TWO      VOLUMES. 

VOL.  I. 


NEW-YORK: 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  82  CLIFF  ST. 

1838. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1837,  by 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Southern  District  of  New- York, 


"PS 


TO 


GEORGE  MACARTNEY  BUSHE,  M.D., 

AS    A    SMALL,    THOUGH    SINCERE,    TESTIMONY    OF    GRATITUDE 
FOR     HIS     DISINTERESTED     KINDNESS,     AND     FOR    THE 
INESTIMABLE      BENEFITS     DERIVED     FROM     HIS 
PROFESSIONAL  SKILL,  THIS  NOVEL  IS  AF 
FECTIONATELY    DEDICATED,    BY 

HIS    OBLIGED    AND    FAITHFUL    FRIEND, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


THE  above  lines  were  written  a  short  time  before  the 

'• 

day  when,  in  accordance  to  the  hidden  workings  of  that 
Providence  which  it  is  not  for  man  to  comprehend  or 
question,  the  great  and  glorious  intellect  to  which  they 
are  addressed  was  fatally  cut  off  from  its  mature  career 
of  usefulness,  benevolence,  and  wisdom.  It  seems, 
however,  to  the  writer,  that  the  deplorable  event  which 
has  deprived  so  many  homes  of  their  protector  and  their 
friend  has  but  increased  the  fitness  of  this  humble  trib 
ute  ;  since,  now  that  memory  and  grief  are  only  left  to 
us,  it  is  admissible  to  speak  aloud  of  those  pre-eminent 
endowments  which,  while  the  owner  lived,  must  have 
been  tacitly  recorded  in  his  name  alone. 

New-York,  June  12,  1837. 


328135 


CROMWELL. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  Can  this  be  HE — 

That  hath  no  privilege  of  gentle  birth, 
Beauty,  nor  grace,  nor  utterance  sublime 
Of  words  persuasive,  nor  the  blood-bought  skill 
That  wins  i'  the  foughten  field  ?" 

"  BUT  even  as  you  will,  fair  sir — even  as  you 
will !  Though,  an'  you  ride  for  Huntingdon  this 
night,  and  wish  not,  ere  it  be  two  hours  the  later, 
that  you  had  tarried  here  at  the  White  Dragon, 
then  am  not  I  called  Walter  Danforth,  nor  have  I 
drawn  good  ale  in  Royston  these  forty  years  and 
better." 

With  this  prophetic  sentence  did  the  lord  of  cup 
and  can  wind  up  a  long  narration  of  roads  impas 
sable,  and  bridges  broken,  and  "  all  the  moving  ac 
cidents  of  flood  and  field,"  with  which,  according 
to  time-honoured  usage  among  the  heroes  of  the 
spigot,  he  was  endeavouring  to  beguile  the  lated 
wayfarer.  In  the  present  instance,  however,  it 
would  seem  that  the  ominous  warnings  of  the  wor 
thy  Boniface  were  destined  to  be  of  none  effect, 
for  with  a  cheery  smile  the  traveller  answered — 

"  'Tis  like  enough,  good  host  of  mine — 'tis  like 
enough — so  all  the  cates  of  the  White  Dragon 
vie  with  this  puissant  Bourdeaux ;"  and,  as  he 
spoke,  he  proffered  to  the  landlord's  grasp  the 
mighty  flagon  of  bright  pewter,  which,  despite  his 
eulogy,  he  had  left  still  mantling  with  its  generous 


10  CROMWELL. 

liquor, — "  but,  were  the  venture  deeper,  I  must  on 
to-night^and,  in  good  sooth,  too  often  have  I  jour 
neyed  fhrough  the  midnight  passes  of  the  wild  Ab- 
ruzzi,  and  the  yet  wilder  Pyrenean  hills  of  Spain, 
to  ponder  gravely  on  a  late  ride  or  a  sprinkled 
doublet  among  these   chalky  wolds  of  Hertford 
shire." 

"  Ay  !  were  that  all — "  returned  the  other, 
heaving  a  long  breath  after  the  potent  draught 
with  which  he  had  exhausted  the  flagon,  and  ey 
ing  wistfully  the  coins  which  had  dropped  with  so 
sweet  a  jingle  into  his  greasy  palm, — "  Ay,  were 
that  all — but  there  are  worse  customers  on  Ermine- 
street  than  darkness,  or  storm  either,  though  the 
clouds  be  mustering  solblack  in  the  west  yonder, 
over  the  woods  of  Potton.  Wise  men  ride  not 
forth  nowadays  an  hour  after  sundown,  nor  earli 
er,  save  in  company." 

"  Then  must  Old  England  be  sore  changed  since 
last  I  left  her,"  replied  the  traveller,  a  shade  of 
thought  or  sorrow,  for  it  might  be  either,  crossing 
his  features,  and  not  entirely  effaced  by  the  frank 
smile  which  followed  it.  "  And  if  she  be — "  he 
paused,  unwilling,  as  brave  men  ever  are,  to  utter 
sentiments  which  might,  however  justified  by  the 
occasion,  sound  boastfully. 

"  And  if  she  be  ?"  inquired  the  interested  Wal 
ter,  seeing  that  his  guest  hesitated  to  complete  his 
sentence,  "and  if  she  be  sore  changed  ?" 

"  Why,  then  hath  brown  Bess  borne  me  through 
worse  frays  than  I  am  like  to  meet,  I  trow,  on  this 
side  Huntingdon ;  nor  will  it  be  small  peril  that 
shall  arrest  her  now ;  and  so  good  e'en,  fair  land 
lord." 

"  A  bold  bird  and  a  braggart !"  muttered  the  dis 
concerted  publican,  as  the  horseman,  giving  the 
spur  to  the  highbred  mare  of  which  he  had  just 


CROMWELL. 


11 


spoken,  rode  briskly  off.     "  But  if  he  meet  with 
those  I  wot  of,  he  may  yet  crow  craven. 

Who  those  were  to  whom  his  words  so  pointed 
ly  alluded,  is  not  perhaps  a  question  of  .-more  than 
ordinary  moment,  unless  it  be  from  the  vast  con 
ception  of  their  prowess  which  appears  to  have 
been  entertained  by  the  landlord  of  the  White 
Dragon;  for,  in  truth,  the  gentleman  who  had 
earned  his  ill-will  merely  by  a  natural  re  uctance 
to  tarry  in  Royston  when  his  occasions  called  him 
elsewhere,  was  of  very  different  mould  from  one  of 
whom  it  would  be  said  that  he  was  like  to  fall  an 
easy  or  unresisting  prey  to  any  who  should  dare 
dispute  his  progress.  Removed  alike  from  the 
greenness  of  inconsiderate  youth  and  from  the  in 
activity  of  an  advanced  age,  the  rider  might  be 
looked  upon  as  exhibiting  a  specimen  of  manhood, 
in  the  full  vigour  of  its  endowments,  both  mental 
and  corporeal,  as  fair  as  is  permitted  by  the  imper 
fections  of  humanity.  Considerably  above  the  or 
dinary  height  of  men,  broad-shouldered,  deep- 
chested,  and  thin-flanked,  he  sat  his  charger  with 
an  ease  and  firmness  resulting  more  from  natural 
arace  and  flexibility  of  limb  than  from  the  prac 
tised  art  of  the  manege.  His  eye  was  clear  and 
even  quick,  though  thought  and  calmness  seemed 
to  belong,  rather  than  energy  or  fire,  to  its  general 
expression,— qualities  belied  neither  by  the  broad 
imaginative  forehead,  nor  by  the  firm  and  slightly 
compressed  outline  of  his  chiselled  lips.  He  wore 
a  small  mustache,  but  neither  beard  nor  whiskers, 
although  both  these  were  common  in  the  last  years 
of  the  unhappy  monarch  who  at  that  time  swayed 
the  destinies  of  England.  His  hair,  as  was  the 
wont  among  the  higher  classes  of  society,  flowed 
in  loose  curls,  trained  with  peculiar  care,  far  down 
the  neck  and  over  the  collar  of  the  doublet,  while 


12  CROMWELL. 

a  single  ringlet,  longer  and  more  assiduously  cher 
ished  than  the  rest,  seemed  to  indicate  that  the 
wearer  was  not  of  one  mind  with  the  pamphlet 
lately  published  by  the  notorious  Master  Prynne 
on  the  "  unloveliness  of  love-locks."  The  dress 
of  this  cavalier,  a  loose  velvet  jerkin  of  that  peculi 
ar  shade  which,  from  being  the  favourite  colour  of 
the  greatest  painter  of  his  day,  has  been  dignified 
with  the  immortal  title  of  Vandyke,  was  slashed 
and  broidered  with  black  lace  and  satin  ;  tight 
breeches  of  buff  leather,  guarded  with  tawny  silk, 
high  boots,  and  massive  spurs,  completed  his  attire  ; 
all  save  a  broad-leafed  hat  of  dark  gray  beaver, 
with  one  black  ostrich  feather  drooping  from  the 
clasp  which  held  it  over  the  left  eyebrow.  His 
military  cloak  of  sable  cloth  and  velvet  was  buck 
led  to  the  croup  of  his  war-saddle,  while  from 
beneath  the  housings  of  the  bow  peered  out  the 
heavy  pistols,  which  had  not  long  before  supplant 
ed  the  lance  as  the  peculiar  weapon  of  the  horse 
man.  A  long  rapier,  with  its  steel  scabbard  and 
basket-hilt  of  silver  delicately  carved,  hung  from  a 
shoulder-scarf  of  the  lame  colour  with  his  doublet, 
matched  by  a  poniard  of  yet  more  costly  fabric  in 
his  Cordovan  leather  girdle. 

When  it  is  added  that  the  mare  which  he  had 
styled  "brown  Bess"  was  an  animal  that  might  be 
pronounced  unrivalled  for  the  rare  union  she  dis 
played  of  strength  and  beauty,  of  English  bone  and 
high  Arabian  blood — the  latter  manifested  in  the 
clean  limb,  full  eye,  and  coat  glancing  like  polished 
copper  to  the  sunlight — naught  will  be  wanting  to 
the  picture  of  the  traveller  who  was  now  journey 
ing  right  onward,  undismayed,  if  not  incredulous  of 
all  that  he  had  heard,  across  the  bleak  and  barren 
hills  which  skirt  the  southern  verge  of  Cambridge 
shire. 


CROMWELL.  13 

The  season  was  that  usually  the  most  delicious 
of  the  English  year — the  bright  and  golden  days 
of  early  autumn — when  the  promises  of  spring  and 
summer  are  fulfilled  in  the  rustling  harvest-field 
and  the  rich  orchard,  and  before  the  thoughts  of 
change,  decay,  and  death  are  forced  upon  the  mind 
by  the  sere  leaf  and  withered  herbage.  The  day 
had  been  mild  and  calm,  and,  though  evening  was 
far  advanced,  the  sun  was  still  shooting  his  slant 
rays  over  the  rounded  summits  and  grassy  slopes 
of  the  low  hills  through  which  the  ancient  Roman 
way  holds  its  undeviating  course.  Ere  long,  how 
ever,  the  clouds  of  which  the  landlord  had  spoken 
as  gathering  so  darkly  to  the  westward,  though  at 
that  time  visible  only  in  a  narrow  streak  along  the 
edge  of  the  horizon,  began  to  rise  in  towering 
masses,  until  the  light  of  the  declining  day-god 
was  first  changed  to  a  dark  and  lurid  crimson,  and 
then  wholly  intercepted.  After  a  while  the  wind, 
which  had  been  slight  and  southerly,  veered  round 
and  blew  in  fitful  squalls,  now  whirling  the  dust 
and  stubble  high  into  the  air,  and  again  subsiding 
into  a  stillness  that  from  the  contrast  seemed  un 
natural.  Such  was  the  aspect  of  the  night  when 
the  sun  set,  and  the  little  light  which  had  hitherto 
struggled  through  intervals  of  the  increasing  storm- 
cloud,  waned  rapidly  to  almost  utter  darkness.  To 
render  the  traveller's  position  yet  less  enviable,  he 
had  already  passed  the  open  country,  and  was  now 
involved  in  the  mazes  of  scattered  woodland,  which 
in  the  seventeenth  century  overspread  so  large  a  por 
tion  of  that  country.  The  way  too,  which  had  thus 
far  been  firm  and  in  good  order,  now  running  be 
tween  deep  hollow  banks,  resembled  rather  a  water 
course  deserted  by  its  torrent  than  a  public  thorough 
fare  ;  so  that  his  progress  was  both  slow  and  pain 
ful  until  he  reached  the  banks  of  the  Cam — at  that 

VOL.  I.—B 


14  CROMWELL. 

place,  as  throughout  much  of  its  course,  a  strong 
and  turbid  stream,  wheeling  along  in  sullen  eddies 
between  shores  of  soft  black  loam.  Here  daylight 
utterly  deserted  him,  its  last  glimpse  barely  suffi 
cing  to  show  that  the  bridge  had  been  carried  away, 
and  that  the  river  was  apparently  unfordable  ;  since 
a  miry  track  wandered  away  from  the  brink  to  the 
left  hand,  as  though  in  search  of  a  place  where  it 
might  pass  the  current,  and  resume  its  natural  direc 
tion  to  the  northward.  While  he  was  considering 
what  course  it  would  be  most  advisable  that  he 
should  pursue,  a  few  large  heavy  drops  of  rain 
plashed  on  the  surface  of  the  gloomy  stream,  warn 
ing  the  stranger  to  hasten  his  decision.  Then,  as 
he  turned  to  follow,  as  best  he  might,  the  devious 
and  uncertain  path  before  him,  the  windows  of  the 
heavens  were  opened,  and  down  came  the  thick 
shower,  pattering  on  the  thirsty  earth,  and  lashing 
the  river's  bosom  into  a  sheet  of  whitened  spray. 
Thoroughly  drenched,  and  almost  hopeless  of  re 
covering  the  true  direction  of  his  journey  until  the 
return  of  daylight,  it  was  yet  not  a  part  of  that 
man's  character  to  hesitate,  much  less  to  falter  or 
despair.  Having  once  determined  what  it  would 
be  for  the  best  to  do,  he  went  right  onward  to  his 
purpose,  though  it  oftentimes  required  the  full  ex 
ercise  of  spur  and  rein  to  force  the  gallant  animal 
which  he  bestrode  against  the  furious  gusts  and 
pelting  storm.  For  a  weary  hour  or  more  he  plod 
ded  onward,  feeling  his  way,  as  it  were,  step  by 
step,  and  guided  only  by  the  flashes  of  broad  light 
ning  which  from  time  to  time  glared  over  the  des 
olate  scene,  with  an  intensity  that  merely  served  to 
render  the  succeeding  gloom  more  dreary.  At 
length,  by  the  same  wild  illumination,  he  discover 
ed  that  his  path  once  more  turned  northward,  sink 
ing  abruptly  to  the  verge  of  that  black  river.  Of 


CROMWELL.  15 

the  farther  bank  he  could  distinguish  nothing ;  and 
though  for  many  minutes  he  awaited  the  return  of 
the  electric  light  before  attempting  to  stem  the  un 
known  ford,  with  that  singular  perversity  which 
even  things  inanimate  and  senseless  at  times  seem 
to  exhibit,  the  flashes  returned  no  more.  Still  no 
word  of  impatience  or  profanity  rose  to  his  lip,  as 
he  spurred  the  reluctant  mare  resolutely  down  the 
steep  descent,  holding  his  pistols,  which  he  had 
drawn  from  their  holsters,  high  above  his  head.  At 
the  first  plunge,  as  he  had  well  expected,  all  foot-hold 
was  lost,  and  nothing  remained  but  a  perilous  swim, 
not  without  considerable  risk  of  finding  an  imprac 
ticable  bank  at  the  farther  side  ;  but  whether  it  was 
the  result  of  skill  or  of  fortune,  or,  more  probable 
than  either,  a  combination  of  the  two,  after  a  few 
rough  struggles  and  a  scramble  through  the  tena 
cious  mire,  horse  and  man  stood  in  safety  on  the 
northern  verge.  Not  yet,  however,  could  the  ad 
ventures  of  that  night  be  deemed  at  an  end  ;  for, 
having  once  deviated  from  it  during  the  hours  of 
darkness,  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  recover  the  line 
of  the  high  road.  The  storm,  it  is  true,  after  a 
while  abated ;  and  the  by-path  into  which  he  struck 
was  sufficiently  hard  to  enable  the  cavalier  to  travel 
at  a  pace  more  rapid  than  he  had  tried  since  quit 
ting  Royston;  but  notwithstanding  this,  so  much 
time  had  been  lost,  and  so  small  did  the  prospect 
seem  of  reaching  his  destination,  or  indeed  any 
other  village  at  which  to  pass  the  night,  that  the 
merciful  rider  was  beginning  to  occupy  himself 
in  searching  for  such  temporary  shelter  as  a  cattle- 
shed,  or  the  lee-side  of  some  lonely  haystack  might 
afford,  when  his  eye  was  attracted  by  a  distant 
light — now  seen,  now  lost  among  the  young  plan 
tations,  or  scattered  stripes  of  forest  which  checker 
ed  everywhere  the  scenery.  It  required  but  a  mo- 


16  CROMWELL. 

ment's  pause  to  discover  that  the  light  was  in  mo 
tion,  and  at  a  smaller  distance  than  he  had  at  first 
conjectured;  and  though  there  might  have  been 
grounds  for  suspicion  and  distrust  to  the  weak  or 
timid  in  the  place  and  manner  of  its  appearance, 
quickening  his  pace  to  a  gallop,  and  somewhat  al 
tering  his  course,  he  rode  straight  for  the  object. 
Five  minutes  brought  him  to  a  bank  and  ditch, 
evidently  skirting  the  road  of  which  he  was  in 
quest ;  the  clatter  of  the  horse's  hoofs  as  he  leaped 
the  trifling  obstacle,  and  landed  safely  on  the  rough 
pavement  of  the  Roman  way,  was,  it  should  seem, 
the  first  intimation  of  his  approach  that  reached  the 
bearers  of  the  light ;  for  ere  he  could  distinguish 
more  than  the  figures  of  two  or  three  rude-looking 
countrymen,  one  of  them  bearing  on  his  shoulders 
what  resembled  the  carcass  of  a  deer,  it  was  eithe: 
extinguished  altogether  or  suddenly  veiled  fro: 
sight. 

"  They  are  upon  us,"  cried  a  hoarse  voice, 
"  shoot,  Wilkin  !"  and  instantly  the  clang  of  a  steel 
crossbow,  and  the  whistle  of  the  heavy  bolt,  as  it 
narrowly  missed  the  rider's  ear,  showed  that  the 
mandate  was  complied  with  as  promptly  as  deliv 
ered. 

"  Hold  !  hold  your  hands  !"  he  shouted,  "  or  ye 
will  fare  the  worse.  Ye  know  me  not,  nor  care  I 
aught  for  ye." 

"  Fare  the  worse,  shall  we  ?"  interrupted  the 
other, — "  that  shall  we  see  anon.  Come  on,  brave 
boys,  and  down  with  this  proud  meddler  !"  and 
with  a  loud  fierce  cry,  some  six  or  seven  ruffians, 
as  he  judged  from  the  sound  of  their  footsteps, 
rushed  against  him.  In  the  moment  which  had 
elapsed  since  the  first  outrage,  he  had  prepared  his 
weapons,  and  was  already  on  his  guard;  but  it  was 
not  destined  that  he  should  this  time  need  their  ser- 


CROMWELL. 

vice ;  for  just  as  he  reined  up  his  steed,  and  parri 
ed  the  first  blow  aimed  at  him  with  a  crowbar  or  a 
quarterstaff,  the  quick  tramp  of  coming  horsemen 
was  heard  upon  the  road  behind  him ;  and  with 
their  swords  drawn,  as  if  excited  by  the  shout  of 
the  ruffians,  two  or  three  persons  galloped  rapidly 
to  his  assistance. 

"  What  knaves  be  these  ?"  inquired  a  loud  and 
dissonant  voice  from  the  foremost  of  the  new-com 
ers,  as  the  cavalier  fell  back  toward  his  welcome 
rescuers.  "  What  knaves  be  these  that  raise  this 
coil  on  the  highway  ?" 

"  Down  with  the  thieving  Girgashites  !"  shouted 
another  of  the  riders,  ere  an  answer  could  be  ren 
dered  to  the  querist ;  and,  at  the  word,  he  fired  a 
petronel  at  random,  its  momentary  flash  displaying 
~,..the  marauders  struggling,  as  best  they  might, 
thorough  a  strong  blackthorn  fence,  which  parted  the 
road  from  a  wild  tract  of  coppice,  glade,  and  wood 
land.  "  Deer-stealers,  Master  Oliver,"  he  continued, 
reslinging  his  now  useless  weapon,  "  after  the 
herds  of  my  Lord  De  la  Warr.  But  I  have  scared 
them  for  the  nonce  !" 

"  More  shame  to  thee,  Giles  Overton,"  cried  the 
same  voice  which  had  first  spoken,  "  and  more  sin 
likewise,  to  use  the  carnal  weapon  thus  in  cause 
less  strife;  setting  the  precious  spirit  of  a  being 
like  to,  or  it  may  well  be  better  than  thyself,  upon 
the  darkling  venture  of  chance-medley,  and  barter 
ing  a  human  life  against  the  slaughter  of  a  value 
less  and  soulless  beast.  Go  to,  Giles  Overton,  see 
that  thou  err  not  in  the  like  sort  again !  But  art 
thou  hurt,  good  sir  ?"  proceeded  the  speaker,  turn 
ing  in  his  saddle  toward  the  traveller,  for  whose 
safety  he  had  come  up  so  opportunely, — "  or  have 
we,  by  the  mercy  of  the  Lord,  who  may  in  this — 
if  it  be  not  presumptuous  in  me,  considering  «how 
B2 


18  CROMWELL. 

unprofitable  I  am,  and  the  mean  improvement  of 
my  talent,  so  to  judge  of  his  workings — vouch 
safe  to  preserve  thee  for  a  chosen  vessel.  Have 
we,  P  would  say,  come  in  season  to  protect  thee 
from  these  sons  of  Ammon  ?" 

"  Thanks  to  your  timely  aid,  fair  sir,"  replied 
the  cavalier,  not  a  little  astonished  at  the  strange 
address  of  his  preserver ;  for  he  had  but  recently 
returned  to  his  native  land  after  protracted  absence, 
and,  at  the  time  of  his  departure,  the  reign  of  the 
saints  had  not  yet  commenced  on  earth — "  I  am 
uninjured ;  and  now,  I  pray  you  to  increase  yet 
farther  this  your  kindness,  by  informing  me  the 
straightest  road  for  Huntingdon ;  it  cannot  be,  I 
do  suppose,  far  distant." 

"  Good  lack — a  stranger,  by  your  questioning," 
answered  he  who  had  been  called  Oliver  ;  "  Hun 
tingdon  do  I  know  right  well — ay  !  even  as  one 
knoweth  the  tabernacle  of  his  abode,  and  the  burial- 
place  of  his  fathers  ;  but  I  profess  to  you  that  it  is 
distant  by  full  thirteen  miles,  and  those  of  sorry 
road.  But  ride  thou  on  with  me  to  Bourne,  some 
three  miles  farther,  and  I  will  bestow  thee  at  a 
house  where  thou  mayst  tarry  until  morn — the 
Fox  Tavern,  I  would  say — Phineas  Goodenough, 
my  glove  hath  fallen ;  I  pray  thee  reach  it  to  me — 
a  clean  house,  truly,  kept  by  a  worthy  man — yea, 
verily,  a  good  man,  one  that  dwelleth  in  the  fear 
of  the  Lord  alway." 

"  A  stranger  am  I  doubtless,"  returned  the  other, 
"  else  had  I  not  inquired  of  thee  that  which  I  then 
had  well  known ;  and,  of  a  truth,  I  know  not  now 
that  I  can  do  aught  better  than  to  accept  your  prof 
fer  frankly  as  it  is  made  !" 

"  Be  it  so  !"  was  the  ready  answer.  "  Will  it 
please  you  to  ride  somewhat  briskly ;  for  myself,  I 


i 


CROMWELL.  19 

am  bound  an  hour's  ride  farther  to  worshipful  Mas 
ter  Pym's,  nigh  Caldecote !" 

"  Ha !  Pym,  the  friend  of  Hampden  and  John 
Milton — I  knew  not  he  lived  hereabout,"  exclaimed 
the  cavalier. 

"And  what  knowest  ihou,  so  I  may  ask  it," 
queried  Oliver,  "of  Hampden  or  John  Milton? 
Truly,  I  took  thee  for  a  carnal-minded  person ; 
but,  of  a  surety,  it  is  not  for  a  man  to  judge  !" 

"  For  what  it  liked  your  wisdom  to  mistake  me, 
I  know  not ;  nor,  to  speak  frankly,  do  I  care  great 
ly,"  replied  the  other ;  "  but,  to  satisfy  your  ques 
tion,  of  Hampden  I  know  nothing,  save  that  the 
mode  of  his  resistance  to  that  illegal  claim  of  ship- 
money  hath  reached  my  ears,  even  where  the 
tongue  of  England  would  have  sounded  strangely. 
John  Milton,  if  it  concerns  you  any  thing  to  hear 
of  him,  was,  and  that  too  for  many  months,  my 
chosen  comrade  of  the  road,  and  my  most  eloquent 
tutorer  in  the  classic  lore  of  Italy !" 

"  In  Italy,  saidst  thou  ?  In  Italy,  and  with  John 
Milton  ?"  answered  Oliver,  after  a  long  and  medita 
tive  pause  ;  and,  as  he  continued,  his  own  voice  had 
lost  much  of  its  harshness,  and  his  manner  not  a 
little  of  its  offensive  peculiarity.  "  A  better  com 
rade  couldst  thou  not  have  chosen  than  that  pure- 
minded  Christian,  that  most  zealous  patriot.  Verily, 
I  say  to  you,  that,  in  consorting  with  that  sanctified, 
elected  vessel,  you  must  needs  have  imbibed  some 
draughts  more  worthy  than  the  profane  and  carnal 
lore  of  those  benighted  heathens,  whose  bestial 
and  idolatrous  rites  are  even  now  to  be  found  cor 
rupting  with  their  accursed  stench  the  faith  which 
claims  to  be  of  Jesus,  even  as  the  stinking  fly 
poisoneth  the  salve  of  the  mediciner.  Verily  I 
will  believe  that  he  hath  opened  unto  you  the  door 
of  that  wisdom  which  is  alone  all  in  all !  Ay !  and 


20  CROMWELL. 

as  I  find  you  here  returning  hard  upon  his  heels, 
even  as  he  hath  of  late  returned  from  the  city  of 
her  that  sitteth  on  the  seven  lulls,  clothed  in  the 
purple  of  the  harlot,  may  I  not  humbly  hope — I 
would  say — confidently  trust,  that  you  will  also 
draw  the  sword  of  truth  to  defend  this  sore- 
aggrieved  and  spirit-broken  people  from  the  tyran 
nous  oppression  of  their  rulers,  and  the  self-seek 
ing  idolatries  of  those  that  sit  in  the  high  places  of 
the  land !" 

"  Fair  sir,"  replied  the  cavalier,  "  you  question 
somewhat  too  closely ;  and  converse,  methinks,  too 
freely  for  a  stranger.  That  I  come,  summoned 
homeward  by  the  rumour  of  these  unhappy  broils 
between  our  sovereign  and  his  parliament,  is  not 
less  true  than  that  I  care  not  either  to  conceal  or  to 
deny  it !  Beyond  this — what  part  soever  I  may 
play  in  that  which  is  to  come — pardon  my  plain 
ness,  sir,  I  do  not  deem  it  wisdom  to  discourse 
with  a  chance  customer.  Nor.  have  I  yet  indeed 
decided  what  that  part  shall  be,  until  I  search  more 
narrowly  the  grounds,  and  so  find  out  my  way 
'twixt  over  license  on  the  one  hand,  and,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  intemperance  on  the  other,  and  too 
fiery  zeal !" 

"  Edgar  Ardenne,"  returned  the  puritan,  his 
naturally  harsh  voice  subsiding  into  a  hollow 
croak,  "  Edgar  Ardenne — for  I  do  know  you, 
though,  as  you  have  truly  spoken  me,  a  stranger — 
I  tell  you  now,  this  nation  totters  on  the  brink 
of  a  most  strange  and  perilous  convulsion  !  We 
are  the  instruments — vile  instruments,  it  is  true, 
but  still  instruments — in  the  hands  of  Him  who 
holds  the  end  of  all  things.  Watched  have  we, 
and  prayed;  yea,  wrestled  with  him  in  the  spirit 
for  a  sign,  and  lo  !  a  sign  was  sent  us.  It  may  be 
we  shall  achieve  deliverance  for  our  country — free- 


CROMWELL.  21 

dom  from  corporeal  chains  and  spiritual  bondage ! 
It  may  be  we  shall  fail,  and,  failing,  seek  the  shel 
ter  of  that  New  Jerusalem  beyond  the  Western 
Ocean,  wherein  there  be  no  kings  to  lord  it  o'er 
men's  consciences,  and  to  compel  them  how  to 
worship  God !  But  fail  we,  or  succeed,  the  sign 
hath  been  given  to  us  from  on  high,  and  therefore 
shall  we  venture !  and  fail  we,  or  succeed — mark 
my  words,  Edgar  Ardenne,  for  thou  shall  think  on 
them  hereafter — thy  lot  is  cast  with  ours !  Thy 
spirit  is  of  our  order,  thy  heart  is  with  us,  and  thy 
tongue  shall  be,  yea,  and  thy  sword  likewise  !" 

"  How  you  have  learned  my  name,  I  compre 
hend  not,"  answered  Ardenne,  for  so  must  he  be 
styled  henceforth,  veiling  whatever  of  suspicion  or 
annoyance  he  might  feel  beneath  the  semblance  of 
a  cold  and  dignified  indifference ;  "  but,  were  it 
worth  the  while,  I  could  assure  you  that,  in  learn 
ing  this,  you  have  learned  all !  What  part  you  play 
in  this  wild  drama, — whether  you  be  hypocrite  or 
zealot,  patriot  or  traitor,  I  care  nothing ;  but,  if  we 
meet  hereafter,  you  will  learn  that  neither  sophistry 
nor  canting  can  affect  my  head,  nor  the  dark  phrensy 
of  fanaticism  reach  my  heart !" 

"  We  shall  meet,"  answered  the  stranger ;  "  we 
shall  meet  again,  and  shortly !  and  then  shall  you 
too  learn  if  I  be  saint  or  hypocrite — if  I  be  patriot 
or  traitor ! — and,  above  all,  then  shall  you  learn  if, 
in  these  things  that  I  have  spoken,  I  be  a  lying 
prophet  or  a  true !  But  lo  you  now — this  is  the 
Fox  at  Bourne,  and  here  comes  honest  Langton,  to 
whose  good  offices  I  do  commit  you  !" 

As  he  spoke,  they  drew  up  their  horses  before 
the  door  of  the  little  wayside  hostelry,  a  low  and 
whitewashed  tenement,  unbosomed  in  deep  wood 
lands,  and  nestling,  as  it  were,  amid  the  verdant 
foliage  of  jessamine  and  woodbine ;  while,  warned 


22  CROMWELL. 

already  of  their  coming  by  the  clatter  of  hoofs  and 
the  sound  of  voices,  the  puritanic  person  of  mine 
host,  bearing  on  high  a  huge  and  smoky  flambeau, 
which  poured  its  red  light  far  into  the  bosom  of 
the  darkness,  stalked  forth  to  meet  them.  On  his 
lean  and  starveling  form,  however,  Ardenne  cast 
but  a  passing  glance,  being  employed  in  scrutini 
zing,  by  the  wild  illumination  which  streamed  full 
upon  them,  the  features  of  his  singular  companion ; 
who  had  paused  for  a  moment  to  allow  his  horse  to 
drink,  and  to  hold  a  whispered  conversation  with 
the  landlord.  There  was,  however,  nothing  famil 
iar  to  him,  though  he  probed  his  memory  to  its 
lowest  depth  of  youthful  recollections,  in  that 
manly  yet  ungraceful  figure,  or  in  those  linea 
ments,  harsh  and  ill-favoured  to  the  verge  of  down 
right  ugliness.  Ill-favoured  was  that  countenance 
indeed,  with  its  deeply-furrowed  lines  and  its  san 
guineous  colouring;  its  sunken  eyes,  twinkling 
below  the  penthouse  of  the  heavy  matted  brows ; 
and  its  nose,  prominent,  rubicund,  and  swollen. 
Yet  was  there  a  world  of  thought  in  the  expansive 
temples  and  the  massive  forehead — an  expression 
of  firmness  that  might  restrain  an  empire  in  the 
downward  curve  of  the  bold  mouth — and  a  general 
air  of  high  authority  and  of  indomitable  resolution 
pervading  the  whole  aspect  of  the  man.  The  head 
of  this  remarkable-looking  individual,  at  a  period 
when  the  greatest  attention  was  lavished  on  the 
Jiair  by  all  of  gentle  birth,  was  covered  with  coarse 
locks,  already  streaked  with  gray,  falling  in  long 
disordered  masses  on  either  cheek,  and  down  the 
muscular  short  neck,  from  underneath  a  rusty 
beaver,  steeple-crowned  and  unadorned  by  feath 
er,  loop,  or  tassel.  Instead  of  the  cravat  of  Flan 
ders  lace,  he  wore  a  narrow  band  of  soiled  and 
rumpled  linen ;  and  his  .sword,  a  heavy  iron-hilted 

* 


CROMWELL.  23 

tuck,  was  not  suspended  from  a  scarf  or  shoulder- 
knot,  but  giit  about  his  middle,  over  a  doublet  of 
black  serge,  by  a  belt  of  calf-skin  leather,  corre 
sponding  to  the  material  of  his  riding-boots,  which 
were  pulled  up  above  the  knee  to  meet  the  loose 
trunk  hose,  fashioned,  as  it  would  be  supposed,  by 
some  ill  country  tailor  from  the  same  unseemly 
stuff  with  his  cloak  and  doublet.  The  only  part  of 
his  appointments  which  would  not  have  disgraced 
the  commonest  gentleman  was  his  horse,  a  tall 
gray  gelding  of  great  power  and  not  a  little  breed 
ing  ;  yet  even  he  was  badly  accoutred  with  mean 
and  sordid  housings.  Such  was  the  appearance  of 
the  person  whose  conversation  had  not  been  list 
ened  to  by  Edgar  Ardenne  without  deep  interest ; 
and  now — even  while  he  confessed  to  himself  that 
the  man's  frame  and  features  entitled  him  to  no 
regard  as  a  person  of  superior  caste  or  bearing — 
there  was  still  something  in  his  air  which  produced 
an  indescribable  effect  on  the  mind  of  the  cavalier, 
forcing  him,  as  it  were,  despite  his  senses,  to  admit 
that  he  was  in  somewise  remarkable,  above,  and  at 
the  same  time  apart  from,  ordinary  mortals,  and  not 
unlike  to  one  who  might  be  indeed  the  mover  of 
great  changes  in  the  estate  of  nations. 

While  he  was  yet  gazing  on  him  with  ill-dis 
sembled  curiosity,  the  stranger,  in  his  loud  hoarse 
notes,  bade  him  adieu,  and,  striking  at  once  into  a 
rapid  trot,  was  swallowed  up  with  his  companions 
in  the  surrounding  gloom.  Edgar,  after  a  fruitless 
effort  at  ascertaining  from  the  saintly  and  abstracted 
publican  the  name  and  quality  of  his  late  compan 
ion,  applied  himself  to  creature  comforts,  as  the 
landlord  termed  them,  of  a  higher  order,  and  to  a 
bed  more  neatly  garnished,  than  he  could  have 
augured  from  the 'lowly  exterior  of  the  village  inn. 


24  CROMWELL. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  A  gentle  being,  delicately  fair, 
Full  of  soft  fancies,  timorous,  and  shy ; 
Yet  high  of  purpose,  and  of  soul  so  firm, 
That  sooner  shall  you  the  round  world  unsphere, 
Than  warp  her  from  the  conscious  path  of  right. 
A  bright  domestic  goddess,  formed  to  bless, 
And  sooth,  and  succour — oh  most  meet  to  be 
The  shrined  idol  of  a  heart  like  his." 

Two  days  had  elapsed,  and  the  third  was  al 
ready  drawing  toward  its  close,  since  the  encoun 
ter  of  the  cavalier  with  his  saintly  ally ;  for  the 
sun,  scarce  elevated  thrice  the  breadth  of  his  own 
disk  above  the  horizon,  was  now  almost  percepti 
bly  declining  in  the  west,  though  he  still  darted 
long  pencilled  rays  of  light  athwart  the  landscape 
from  between  the  folds  of  gauze-like  mist  which 
veiled  his  splendours  from  the  eye.  One  of  these 
straggling  beams — while  others  might  be  discern 
ed  shedding  their  bright  intelligence  upon  some 
verdant  slope  or  twinkling  waterfall,  thus  rescued, 
although  miles  away,  from  the  hazy  indistinctness 
that  steeped  the  distant  hills,  and  rendered  promi 
nent,  like  epochs  marked  by  fame  amid  the  gloom 
of  ages  else  forgotten — one  of  these  straggling 
beams  had  found  its  way  into  a  nook  as  sweet  as 
ever  poet  sung  or  fairy  haunted.  It  was  an  angle 
in  one  of  those  broad  green  lanes  which  form  so 
beautiful  a  feature  in  the  rural  scenery  of  England. 
Carpeted  with  deep  unfaded  verdure,  through 
which  meandered  a  faint  wheel-track ;  bordered  by 
hedges  so  thick  and  tangled  as  to  resemble  natural 
coppices  rather  than  artificial  fences ;  imbowered 


CROMWELL.  25 

by  the  fragrant  honeysuckle,  and  spangled  with  the 
dewy  flowers  of  the  yet  sweeter  eglantine ;  decked 
with  the  golden  blossoms  of  the  broom,  the  fringe- 
like  brachens,  and  the  flaunting  bells  of  the  white 
and  crimson  fox-gloves ;    canopied  by  the  dense 
umbrage  of  the  broad-leaved  sycamore,  the  gnarl 
ed  and  ivy-mantled  oak,  or  the  lighter  and  more 
graceful  ash ;  and  watered  by  a  tiny  brooklet,  that 
stole1  along,  now  on  one  side,  now  on  the  other,  of 
the   rarely-trodden    path — here   tinkling    over  its 
many-coloured  pebbles  with  a  mirthful  music,  there* 
silently  reflecting  the  tufted  rushes  and  the  mossy 
log  that  spanned  its  surface  with  a  sylvan  bridge — 
that  solitary  nook  might  well  have  furnished  forth 
a  tiring-room  for  Shakspeare's  wild  Titania.     Nor, 
though  the  days  of  Puck  and  Oberon  were  already 
numbered  with  the  things  that  had  been,  did  that 
lone  bower  lack  its  presiding  genius ;   for  on  a 
trunk,  cushioned  with  hoary  lichens,  and  overlook 
ing  a  crystal  basin  formed  by  the  rill  which  under 
mined  its  tortuous  roots,  and  had,  perchance,  in  by 
gone  ages,  caused  its  decay  and  ruin,  there  sat  a 
female  form,  loveliest  among  the  lovely,  gazing,  as 
at  first  sight  it  seemed,  Narcissus-like,  upon  her 
watery  image,  but  in  truth  so  deeply  buried  in  her 
own  imaginings  that  she  was  no  less  ignorant  of 
all  she  looked  upon  than  was  the  senseless  stump 
on  which  she  leaned  so  gracefully.     She  was  a 
girl  perhaps  of  twenty  summers ;  for,  looking  on 
her,  it  had  been  impossible  to  reckon  save  by  sum 
mers,  so  sunny  was  the  style  of  her  young  beauty. 
On  either  side  of  her  white  and  dazzling  forehead, 
ringlets  in  rich  exuberance  of  the  deepest  auburn 
— so  deep  that,  saving  where  they  glittered  gold- 
like  in  the  sunshine,  they  might  have  been  deemed 
black — fell  off  behind  her  ears  and  wantoned  down 
her  swan-like  neck ;  while,  in  the  luxury  of  calm 
VOL.  I.— C 


26  CROMWELL. 

abandonment,  her  velvet  hat,  dropped  by  her  side, 
lay  on  the  grass,  its  choice  plumes  ruffling  the 
mirror  of  the  pool.  Her  eyes  were  bent  so  stead 
fastly  upon  the  waters  at  her  feet,  that  it  was  by 
the  long  dark  lashes  only,  pencilled  in  clear  relief 
against  the  delicate  complexion  of  her  cheek,  that 
they  could  be  judged  large,  and  suited  to  the  char 
acter  of  her  most  eloquent  features.  Of  an  almost 
marble  paleness,  with  scarce  a  rosy  trace  to  tell  of 
the  pure  blood  which  coursed  so  warmly  through 
those  thousand  azure  channels  that  veined  her  neck 
and  bosom,  there  was  yet  a  transparency,  a  glow 
ing  hue  in  her  fair  skin  that  spoke  of  all  the  lively 
elasticity  of  health ;  while,  to  remove  a  doubt,  if 
doubt  could  have  existed,  the  sweet  curve  of  that 
small  mouth,  wooingly  prominent,  was  tinged  with 
the  rich  hue  of  the  dark  red  carnation.  Though 
Grecian  in  their  chiselled  outlines,  there  yet  was 
more  of  intellect  and  energy  in  the  expression  of 
her  features  than  of  that  poetical  repose  which 
forms  the  general  character  of  the  classic  model. 
Her  shape,  as  she  reclined  along  her  rustic  couch, 
though  of  voluptuous  roundness,  was  rather  slight 
than  full ;  and  the  ankle,  displayed  somewhat  too 
liberally  by  the  disordered  draperies  of  her  satin 
riding-dress,  was  slender  as  a  sylphid'js  limb,  while 
her  dimpled  chin  was  propped,  in  attitude  of  busy 
thought,  on  so  diminutive  a  hand  as  would  alone 
have  proved  her  pedigree  from  the  unconquered 
race  of  Normandy.  Nor  was  the  attitude  belied 
by  aught  of  consciousness  or  coquetry,  for  all  be 
tokened  the  deep  hush  of  natural  and  unstudied 
meditation.  A  beautiful  white  palfrey,  with  decora 
ted  rein  and  velvet  housings,  which  stood  unfettered 
at  her  side,  awaiting,  docile  and  gentle  creature, 
the  pleasure  of  his  mistress,  would  stamp  and  toss 
his  head  till  the  silver  bits  rang  audibly,  and  utter- 


CROMWELL.  27 

ed  once  or  twice  a  tremulous  impatient  neigh,  un 
heeded   at  the  least,  if  not  unheard.    A  vagrant 
spaniel  of  the  Blenheim  breed,  with  soft  dark  eyes, 
and  ears  that  almost  swept  the  ground — one  from 
a  number  that  had  followed  the  fair  girl,  and  now 
dozed  listlessly  upon  the  grass  around  her — had 
been  for  some  time  rustling  among  the  dewy  bush 
es,  and  now  sent  forth  a  shrill  and  clamorous  yelp 
ing,  as  pheasant  after  pheasant  whirred  up  on  noisy 
wings  into  the  higher  branches,  whence  they  crow 
ed,  with  outstretched  necks,  defiance  to  their  pow 
erless  assailant.     Still  there  was  no  sign  in  the  de 
meanour  of  the  lady  to  indicate  that  she  had  mark 
ed  the  sounds,  harmonizing  as  they  did  with  the 
spirit  of  the  place  and  hour,  and  blending  naturally 
with  the  low  of  the  distant  cattle,  the  cawing  of 
the  homeward  rooks,  and  the  continuous  hum  of 
the  myriad  insect  tribes  which  were  still  disporting 
themselves  in  the  September  sunset,  not  the  less 
merrily  that  their  little  glass  of  life  had  already  run 
even  to  its  latest  sands.     But  anon  a  noise  arose, 
which,  in' itself  by  no  means  inharmonious,  was 
n6t  so  much  attuned  to  the  rural  melodies  around 
but  that  it  jarred  discordantly  on  the  ear.     It  was 
the  clear  and  powerful  voice  of  a  man,  venting  his 
feelings  as  he  rode  along — for  at  times  the  tramp 
of  a  horse  might  be  distinguished,  when  his  hoof 
struck  upon  harder  soil  than  common,  mingling 
with  the  measured  tones,  as,  perhaps  unconscious 
of  his  occupation,  the  rider  recited  aloud  such  pas 
sages  from  the  high  poets  of  the  day  as  were  sug 
gested  to  his  memory  by  all  that  met  his  senses. 
At  first  the  accents  were  indistinct  from  distance, 
and  their  import   quite   inaudible ;    then,  as   the 
speaker  drew  so  nigh  that  his  words  might  par 
tially  be  understood,  the  voice  ceased  altogether ; 
but  after  a  brief  pause  it  again  broke  forth  in  the 
pure  poetry  of  Drummond. 


28  CROMWELL. 

"  Thrice  happy  he,  who  by  some  shady  grove, 
Far  from  the  clamorous  world,  doth  Jive  his  own, 
Though  solitary,  who  is  not  alone, 
But  doth  converse  with  that  eternal  love  : 
O  how  more  sweet  is  birds'  harmonious  moan, 
Or  the  hoarse  sobbings  of  the  widowed  dove, 
Than  those  smooth  whispers  near  a  prince's  throne, 
Which  make  good  doubtful — " 

As  the  words  passed  his  lips  the  horseman  turned 
the  last  angle  of  the  winding  lane  ;  and  for  the  first 
time  discovering  that  the  free  outpourings  of  his 
spirit  had  found  a  listener,  Edgar  Ardenne — for  the 
moralist  was  no  other — paused  in  his  sonnet  and 
checked  his  steed  by  a  common  impulse,  and,  as  it 
seemed,  a  single  movement.  His  eyes  flashed 
joyfully  as  they  met  the  large  and  violet-coloured 
orbs  which  the  fair  girl  had  raised  at  first  in  sim 
ple  wonderment,  but  which  now  lightened  with  a 
gleamy  radiance  that  he  was  not  slow  to  construe 
into  delighted  recognition. 

"  Sibyl— sweet  Sibyl !— " 

"  Edgar,  can  it  indeed  be  you  ?  Welcome,  oh 
welcome  home !" 

At  once,  without  a  moment's  interval,  the  words 
burst  forth  from  either  as  they  hastened — he  with 
impetuous  hurry  from  his  charger,  she  gathering 
her  ruffled  robes  about  her,  and  rising  from  her  rus 
tic  throne  with  the  unblushing  ease  of  conscious 
modesty — to  manifest  their  pleasure  at  this  unex 
pected  meeting.  Were  they  friends,  or  kindred, 
or  more  dearly  linked  than  either  by  the  young  ties 
of  holy,  unsuspicious,  and  unselfish  love  ?  They 
met ;  the  formal  fashions  of  the  day  would  scarcely 
have  allowed  the  gallant  to  fold  even  a  sister  to  his 
bosom ;  Edgar  clasped  her  not,  therefore,  in  the 
arms  that  evidently  yearned  to  do  so;  but  with  a 
polished  ease,  belied  by  the  flushed  brow  and  frame 
that  quivered  visibly  with  eagerness,  himself  un- 
gloving,  he  raised  her  white  hand  to  his  lips,  which 


CROMWELL.  29 

dwelt  upon  it  even  too  fervently  for  brotherly  affec 
tion. 

A  deep  blush,  glowing  the  more  remarkably 
from  its  contrast  to  her  wonted  paleness,  over  brow 
and  cheek,  and  visible,  though  with  a  fainter  hue, 
even  upon  her  neck  and  such  brief  portion  of  the 
bosom  as  might  be  descried  between  the  fringes  of 
rich  lace  that  edged  her  bodice,  she  yet  expressed 
not  aught  of  wonder  or  of  reluctance  to  his  famil 
iar  greeting.  Though  the  small  hand  trembled  in 
his  grasp  with  a  perceptible  and  quick  emotion,  it 
was  not  withdrawn ;  nor,  while  he  gazed  upon 
those  eloquent  eyes  as  steadfastly  as  though 
through  them  he  would  have  read  the  inmost  feel 
ings  of  the  soul  that  so  informed  them,  did  she 
shrink  from  his  evident  though  chastened  admira 
tion.  A  moment  or  two  passed  ere  either  again 
spoke ;  it  might  be  that  their  passionate  feelings . 
were  better  to  be  interpreted  from  silence  than  ex 
pressed  by  words — it  might  be  that  their  hearts 
were  full  to  overflowing,  and  that  so  they  dared  not 
to  unlock  those  secret  channels  lest  they  might  be 
led — he  into  such  betrayal  of  his  feelings  as  is 
deemed  weak  and  womanish  by  the  great  mass  of 
men,  themselves  too  calculating  or  too  cold  to  feel 
at  all — she  into  such  disclosure  of  her  soul's  treas 
ured  secret  as  oftentimes  is  censured,  and  not  per 
haps  unjustly,  as  at  the  least  impolitic,  if  not  im 
modest  or  unmaidenly.  It  was,  however,  Sibyl 
who,  with  the  delicate  and  ready  tact  peculiar  to 
her  sex,  first  broke  the  silence,  which  had  endured 
so  long  already  as  to  become  almost  embarrassing ; 
and  as  she  spoke,  her  words  explained  their  rela 
tive  position,  although  it  might  even  then  be  doubt 
ed  whether  the  full  extent  of  their  connexion  was 
as  yet  divulged. 

"  J  can  hardly,"  she  said,  in  those  low  and  mu- 
02 


30  CROMWELL. 

sical  notes  which  are  indeed  an  excellent  thing  in 
woman — "  I  can  hardly  trust  my  eyes,  dear  cousin, 
when  they  tell  me,  truant  as  you  are  and  traitor, 
that  you  stand  bodily  before  me.  So  long  have 
our  hearts  been  rendered  sick  by  hope  deferred — 
so  often  have  we  gazed,  from  peep  of  morn  till  the 
sad  close  of  evening,  for  your  expected,  for  your 
promised  coming,  and  gazed  but  to  be  disappoint 
ed — that  now,  when  you  have  truly  come,  we  had 
ceased,  not  to  hope,  indeed,  and  pray,  but  surely  to 
expect." 

"  Oh,  Sibyl,  did  you  know  how  many  an  anxious 
thought,  how  many  a  bitter  pang  these  wearisome 
delays  have  cost  me,  you  would  pity  rather  than 
upbraid." 

"  Fair  words,  good  cousin  Edgar,"  she  replied, 
with  an  arch  glance,  and  a  light  thrilling  laugh ; 
"  fair  words,  and  flowery  all !  and  with  such,  you 
lords  of  the  creation,  as  in  your  vanity  you  style 
yourselves,  deem  you  can  wipe  away  the  heaviest 
score  of  broken  vows  and  perjured  promises  from 
the  frail  memories  of  easy  and  deluded  damsels. 
But,  in  good  sooth,  I  marvel  not  that  you  should 
slight  poor  me,  when  you  have  questioned  nothing, 
and  that  too  after  a  three  years'  absence,  of  your 
noble  father  ;  and  when  you  stand  here  dallying 
within  a  scant  mile  of  his  presence,  rounding 
your  false  excuses  into  a  credulous  lady's  ear.  For 
shame,  sir  !  for  my  part,  if  I  felt  it  not,  then  would 
I  feign  at  least  some  natural  affection." 

"  Wild  as  thou  ever  wert,  fair  Sibyl,"  answered 
Edgar,  a  beautiful  smile  playing  over  his  grave 
features,  and  revealing  a  set  of  teeth  even  and 
white  as  ivory ;  "  I  hoped,  when  I  beheld  you  so 
pensive  and  so  melancholy,  musing  beside  yon 
lonely  pool,  that  years  growing  toward  maturity 
might  have  brought  something  of  reflection  to  tame 


CROMWELL.  31 

those  girlish  spirits — but,  in  good  faith,  I  should 
have  known  you  better.  But  am  I  not  assured, 
were  it  but  by  your  being  here  so  blithe  and  beau 
tiful,  that  all  goes  well  at  home  ?" 

"  Well  parried,  if  not  honestly,"  still  laughing 
she  replied  ;  "  and  for  your  taunts  on  my  demean 
our,  I  defy  you  !  But  help  me  to  my  horse,  sir  loi 
terer,  and  we  will  homeward ;  for  I  do  believe,  de 
spite  your  manifold  enormities,  that  you  would  fain 
see  those  who,  to  your  shame  be  it  spoken,  will 
feel  more  joy  to  greet  you,  than  you  have  shown 
alacrity  to  do  so  much  as  ask  of  their  well-being. 
I  warrant  me,  if  you  had  met  Sir  Henry  first,  you 
had  not  once  inquired  whether  poor  I  were  in  ex 
istence." 

In  another  moment  the  lady  was  mounted  on  her 
white  palfrey,  and,  with  the  cavalier  beside  her 
bridle-rein,  rode  toward  her  home  more  joyously 
than  she  had  done  for  many  a  month  before.  Not, 
however,  in  loud  mirth,  nor  even  in  the  sprightly 
raillery  which  she  had  adopted  on  their  first  meet 
ing,  was  her  happiness  divulged  to  common  ears ; 
but  her  soft  eyes,  dwelling  fondly  on  the  features 
long  unseen  of  her  accepted  and  acknowledged 
lover,  though  they  were  lowered  modestly  so  often 
as  they  caught  his  answering  glances — with  the 
subdued  and  quiet  tones  of  her  melodious  voice  as 
they  conversed  of  old  home  scenes  and  sweet  fa 
miliar  recollections,  more  endeared  to  them,  all 
trivial  as  they  were,  than  loftier  memories — were 
confirmations  strong  as  an  angel's  voice  of  her  un 
changed  affection.  After  a  short  ride,  rendered 
shorter  yet  to  them  by  the  enjoyment  for  so  long  a 
time  unused,  though  not  forgotten,  of  each  other's 
converse ;  by  the  sweet  consciousness  of  mutual 
love ;  and  by  the  full  expansion  of  their  feelings, 
unrestrained  by  the  cold  formalities  of  that  most 


32  CROMWELL. 

heartless  intercourse  which  men  have  styled  so 
ciety,  and  untrammelled  by  any  chains  save  those 
instinctive  bonds  of  pure  and  delicate  propriety 
which  noble  natures  ever  wear  about  them  in  the 
guise  of  flowery  garlands,  gracing,  while  they  dig 
nify,  the  motions  which  they  in  no  respect  im 
pede — after  a  short  ride  through  the  windings  of 
that  verdant  lane — here  rendered  almost  gloomy 
by  the  shadows  of  occasional  woodlands  which  it 
traversed  ;  here  running  past  the  door  of  some  se 
cluded  cottage,  its  thatched  porch  overhung  with 
bowering  creepers,  and  its  narrow  garden  gay  with 
tall  hollyhocks  and  ever-blooming  peas;  and  here 
looking  forth  from  intervals  in  the  tall  hedges  over 
some  sunny  stubble-field,  on  which  the  golden 
shocks  stood  fair  and  frequent,  or  some  deep  pas 
ture,  its  green  surface  dotted  with  sleek  and  come 
ly  cattle — they  reached  a  rustic  gate  of  unbarked 
timber,  woven  into  fantastic  shapes,  and  through  it 
gained  admittance  into  a  demesne,  as  rich  as  ever 
was  transmitted  by  its  first  winner  of  the  bloody 
hand  to  a  long  line  of  undegenerate  posterity.  Even 
to  the  wandering  and  homeless  stranger  there  is  a 
calm  and  quiet  joy  in  the  stately  solitude  of  an 
English  park, — in  its  broad  velvet  lawns,  sloping 
southwardly  away,  studded  with  noble  clumps,  or 
solitary  trees  more  noble  yet,  down  to  the  verge  of 
some  pellucid  lake  or  brimful  river, — in  its  swel 
ling  uplands,  waving  with  broom  and  brachens — 
sweet  haunt  for  the  progeny  of  the  timid  doe — 
whence  glitter  frequently  the  white  stems  of  the 
birch  or  the  red  berries  of  the  mountain  ash, — in 
the  wild  belling  of  the  deer,  heard  from  some  rock- 
ribbed  glen,  where  they  have  sheltered  during  the 
hot  noontide, — in  the  cooing  of  the  pigeon,  or  the 
repeated  tap  of  the  green  woodpecker, — in  the 
harsh  cry  of  the  startled  heron,  soaring  on  his 


CROMWELL.  33 

broad  vans  from  the  sedgy  pool  before  the  intru 
der's  footstep, — in  the  lazy  limp  of  the  pastured 
hares,  and  in  the  whirr  of  the  rising  covey.  What 
then  must  be  the  feeling  summoned  by  the  same 
picture  to  the  heart  of  one  who  hears  in  every  ru 
ral  sound,  and  witnesses  in  every  sylvan  scene,  the 
melodies  that  soothed  his  earliest  slumber,  and  the 
sights  that  nursed  his  youngest  meditations  ?  To 
him  these  stately  solitudes  are  peopled  with  a 
thousand  holy  recollections  ;  the  step,  perchance,  of 
a  departed  mother  still  roams  beneath  those  imme 
morial  trees ;  her  musical  voice  still  speaks  to  his 
heart  audibly,  and  in  the  very  tones  his  childhood  lis 
tened,  when  all  its  cares  were  hushed ; — to  him  each 
bosky  bourn  and  twilight  dingle  has  its  memory 
of  boyish  exploit,  each  chiming  rill  of  boyish  rev- 
ery.  Home — home — hackneyed  as  is  the  thought 
and  time-worn — what  a  world  of  treasured  sweet 
ness  is  there  in  that  one  word  Home  !  The  hum- 
olest  as  the  highest — in  sorrow  as  in  mirth — to  the 
needy  exile  as  to  the  successful  adventurer — for 
ever  dear,  for  ever  holy.  Crowded  out  perhaps 
from  the  selfish  spirit  by  the  bustle,  the  tumult, 
the  conflict  of  the  day — but  still  returning  with  un- 
diminished  force  when  the  placid  influence  of  night 
and  slumber  shall  have  stilled  the  fitful  fever,  and 
restored  to  the  sullied  heart,  for  one  short  hour,  the 
purity  it  knew  of  yore.  Oh !  if  there  be  on  the 
broad  face  of  earth  the  wretch  that  loves  not,  with 
an  unquenchable  and  ever-living  love,  the  native 
home — curse  him  not  when  ye  meet,  he  is  accur 
sed  already.  Vindictive  men  have  warred  against, 
ambitious  men  have  sacrificed,  and  sordid  men 
have  sold  their  countries. ;  but  these,  ay,  each  and 
all  of  these,  if  we  could  read  their  souls,  have  had 
their  moments  of  repentant  thought,  their  moments 
of  triumphant  fondness.  What  then  must  be  the 


34  CROMWELL. 

feelings  of  a  mind  like  that  of  Ardenne — a  mind 
coupling  the  severe  and  disciplined  philosophy  of 
schools  with  the  warm  and  wild  romance  of  a  po 
etic  fancy — a  mind  which  had  learned  wisdom 
without  learning  vice,  amid  the  fierce  pleasures  and 
the  fiercer  strife  of  a  licentious  world — a  mind  no 
less  unselfish  than  it  was  reasoning  and  regular — 
a  mind,  filled  with  the  beautiful  principles  of  that 
universal  love,  which  is  honour,  and  patriotism, 
and  every  shape  of  virtue — virtue,  not  cold  in  it 
self,  as  the  wicked  say,  and  chilling  all  things  that 
it  touches,  but  genial,  and  enlivening,  and  warm 
with  every  generous  aspiration  ?  What  must  have 
been  the  feelings  of  a  man,  endowed  with  such  a 
mind,  returning  to  his  unforgotten  home  from  years 
of  restless  wandering,  in  pursuit — not  of  the  idol 
mammon,  not  of  the  phantom  fame,  but  of  that 
high  philosophy  which  is  derived  from  the  perusal 
of  men,  not  books ;  which  is  learned,  not  in  the 
solitary  chamber  nor  by  the  midnight  lamp,  but  on 
the  tented  field  and  in  the  dazzling  court;  at  the 
banquet  and  the  masque ;  amid  the  treacheries  of 
men  and  the  wilier  fascinations  of  beauty ; — riding 
by  the  bridle  of  his  own  betrothed,  through  the 
very  fields  in  which  he  had  won,  years  before,  her 
virgin  heart ; — hastening  to  the  embrace  of  a  father, 
whom,  much  as  he  revered  and  honoured  him,  he 
loved  yet  more  ?  Who  may  describe  that  wonder 
ful  and  deep  sensation,  that  tincture  of  joy  and  sor 
row,  of  bitterness  and  pleasure,  which  must  be 
mingled  to  make  up  the  draught  of  human  happi 
ness,  exhibited  no  less  in  the  gushing  tear  than  in 
the  glittering  smile — in  the  choked  voice  and  suf 
focating  spasm,  than  in  the  flashing  eye  and  the  ex 
ulting  pulse  ?  Enough — he  was  for  the  moment 
happy,  absolutely  and — if  aught  mortal  may  be 
called  perfect — perfectly  happy.  The  antiquated 


CROMWELL.  35 

hall  burst  on  his  vision  as  he  passed  a  belt  of  shel 
tering  evergreens,  its  tall  Elizabethan  chimneys 
sending  their  columns  of  vaporous  smoke  far  up 
into  the  calm  heaven ;  its  diamond-paned  oriels 
glowing  like  sheets  of  fire  to  the  reflected  sun ;  its 
hospitable  porch  yawning  to  admit  stranger  or 
guest  alike  with  kindly  welcome  ;  its  freestone  ter 
races,  with  a  group  of  lazy  greyhounds  basking  on 
the  steps,  and  a  score  or  two  of  peacocks  perched 
upon  the  balustrades,  like  the  ornaments  of  an 
eastern  throne,  or  strutting  to  and  fro  on  the  broad 
flag-stones  in  all  their  pride  of  gorgeous  plumage. 
He  saw — he  had  no  words — but  his  gentle  com 
panion  might  perceive  his  nether  lip  to  quiver  with 
strong  emotion,  and  a  tear,  unrestrained  by  selfish 
pride,  to  trickle  down  his  manly  cheek.  A  heavy 
bell  rang  out;  there  was  a  bustle,  and  a  rush  of 
many  servitors,  badged  and  blue-coated  men,  with 
hoary  heads  and  tottering  limbs — the  heir-looms  of 
the  family,  transmitted,  with  the  ancestral  armour 
and  the  ancient  plate,  from  sire  to  son.  With  dif 
ficulty  extricating  himself  from  the  familiar  greet 
ing  of  these  domestic  friends,  he  hurried  up  the 
steps ;  but,  ere  he  crossed  the  threshold,  a  noble- 
looking  man,  far  past  the  prime  of  life — as  might 
be  seen  from  his  long  locks,  already  streaked  with 
wintry  hues  of  age,  but  vigorous  still  and  active — 
fell  upon  his  neck  with  a  quick  shrill  cry,  "  My 
son  !  my  son  !"  the  hot  tears  gushing  from  his  eyes 
— not  that  he  mourned,  but  that  he  did  rejoice — to 
borrow  the  magnificent  words  of  the  Greek  lyrist 
— as  he  beheld  his  chosen  offspring,  the  stateliest 
of  the  sons  of  men. 


36  CROMWELL. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  Minstrel  of  freedom— England's  holiest  bard — 
His  were  the  electric  strains,  that  spurn  control ! 
That  stir  with  lightning-touch  a  nation's  soul, 
Filling  each  heart  with  aspirations  high, 
With  zeal  to  do — to  suffer — and  to  die  ! 
With  fear  of  tyrants  conquering  fear  of  strife  ! 
With  that  high  love— more  strong  than  love  of  life — 
Which  arms  may  not  subdue,  nor  fetters  pine, — 
The  deathless  love  of  liberty  divine !" 

IT  was  a  beautiful  and  tranquil  evening;  the 
broad  bright  hunter's  moon  was  riding  through  the 
cloudless  firmament,  bathing  the  whole  expanse  of 
heaven  with  a  radiance  so  pervading,  that  the 
myriad  stars  were  wellnigh  quenched  in  her  more 
lustrous  glory.  It  was  one  of  those  evenings  on 
which  we  cannot  gaze  without  comparing  the  pure 
and  passionless  quiet  of  the  world  above  with  the 
fierce  solicitudes,  the  selfish  strife,  the  angry  tur 
moil  of  the  world  around  us — one  of  those  even 
ings  which  at  any  time  must  infuse  a  sentiment  of 
peaceful  melancholy  into  every  bosom,  even  of  the 
wild  and  worldly;  but  which  has  at  no  time  so 
deep  an  influence  on  the  spirit  as  when  contem 
plated  from  the  near  vicinity  of  some  large  city 
The  contrast  between  the  chaste  paleness  of  those 
celestial  lamps,  and  the  ruddy  glare  of  the  terrene 
and  lurid  fires  glancing  from  many  a  casement, — 
between  the  perfect  calm  aloft,  unbroken  save  by 
the  gentle  murmur  of  the  wind,  and  the  confused 
uproar  below,  rife  with  the  din  of  commerce,  the 
dissonance  of  mingled  tongues,  and  now  a  distant 
scream,  and  now  a  burst  of  unmelodious  laughter, 
must  needs  impress  more  strongly  on  the  mind 


CROMWELL.  37 

than  aught  of  homily  or  lecture,  that  loathing  of 
the  mortal  world,  and  the  base  things  its  tenants, — 
that  ardent  and  inexplicable  yearning  after  some 
thing  of  truer  and  more  substantial  happiness  than 
we  can  here  conceive, — that  wish  for  "  wings  like 
a  dove,  that  we  might  flee  away  and  be  at  rest," — 
which  constitutes  perhaps  the  most  essential  differ 
ence,  as  exhibited  on  earth,  between  ourselves  and 
the  yet  lower  animals,  content  to  fatten  and  to 
perish.  Such  was  not  improbably  the  strain  of 
thought  into  which  the  aspect  of  the  night  had  led 
one — a  man,  not  yet  advanced  beyond  the  prime 
of  life,  of  elegant  though  low  proportions — who 
stood  gazing  heavenward  as  he  leaned  against  the 
low  wall  of  a  pleasant  garden,  which,  girt  about 
with  its  tall  hedges  of  clipped  box  or  hornbeam,  its 
gay  parterres,  and  its  pleached  bowery  walks,  a 
fair  suburban  villa ;  situate  in  what  was  then,  as 
now,  termed  Aldersgate,  though  at  that  period  not 
a  densely-peopled  thoroughfare,  but  a  long  strag 
gling  street,  half  town  half  country,  with  leafy 
elms  lining  the  public  way,  and  many  a  cultivated 
nursery  and  many  a  grassy  paddock  intervening 
between  the  scattered  dwellings  of  the  retired 
trader  or  the  leisure-loving  man  of  letters.  The 
countenance  of  this  person,  as  it  was  directed 
upward  with  a  pensive  wistful  gaze  toward  the 
melancholy  planet,  receiving  the  full  flood  of  its 
lustre,  was  singular  for  softness  and  attraction. 
He  wore  no  covering  on  his  head,  and  his  luxuri 
ant  tresses  of  light  brown  hair,  evenly  parted  on 
the  foretop,  hung  down  in  silky  waves  quite  to  his 
shoulders.  The  hues  of  his  complexion,  delicately 
coloured  as  a  woman's,  and  the  somewhat  sleepy 
expression  of  his  full  gray  eye,  accorded  well  with 
the  effeminate  arrangement  of  his  locks,  and  indeed 
entitled  him  to  be  considered  eminently  handsome ; 
VOL.  I.— D 

328135 


38  CROMWELL. 

for  there  was  so  much  of  intellect  and  of  imagina 
tion  in  the  forehead,  low  but  expansive,  and  so 
many  lines  of  thought  about  the  slightly-sunken 
cheeks,  now  faintly  traced  and  transient,  but  which 
would,  with  the  advance  of  years,  increase  to  fur 
rows,  that  the  softer  traits,  while  adding  to  the 
beauty,  detracted  nothing  from  the  dignity  and 
manhood  of  his  aspect.  His  form,  though  low 
and  small,  was  yet  compact  and  muscular,  affording 
promise  of  that  powerful  agility  which  is  paramount 
even  to  superior  strength  in  the  use  and  skill  of 
weapons.  Neatly  clad  enough  in  a  loose  coat  of 
dark  gray  cloth,  with  vest  and  hose  of  black,  cut 
plainjy  without  lace  or  fringe ;  and,  above  all,  not 
wearing  even  the  common  walking-sword,  at  that 
time  carried  throughout  Europe  by  all  of  gentle 
rank,  the  meditative  loiterer  would  have  excited 
little  or  no  attention  among  the  greater  body  of 
mankind,  ever  caught  by  the  glitter,  and  deluded 
by  the  glare,  but  careless  as  it  is  undiscerning  of 
true  merit,  when  harbingered  to  its  opinion  by 
naught  of  pride  or  circumstance.  He  might  have 
been  an  artisan  or  merchant  of  the  city,  but  that 
the  slouched  hat,  lying  with  a  staff  of  ebony  beside 
him  on  the  wall,  distinguished  him  from  the  flat- 
capped  dwellers  to  the  east  of  Temple  Bar  ;  while 
his  hands,  which  were  delicately  white,  and  tender 
as  a  lady's,  showed  that  they  had  never  been  exer 
cised  in  the  ungentle  labour  of  a  mechanic  calling. 
But,  stronger  even  than  these  tokens,  there  was 
that  vivid  and  inexplicable  impress  of  exalted 
genius,  that  looking  forth  of  the  immortal  spirit 
from  the  eyes,  that  strange  mixture  of  quiet  melan 
choly  with  high  enthusiasm,  pervading  all  his  fea 
tures,  which  must  have  made  it  evident  to  any 
moderately  keen  observer,  that  figure  or  decoration 


CROMWELL.  39 

could  be  but  of  small  avail  when  considered  as  the 
mere  appendages  to  such  a  mind. 

He  stood  a  while  in  silence,  though  his  lips  moved 
at  intervals,  perusing  the  bright  wanderers  of  heav 
en  with  a  gaze  so  fixed  and  yearning  as  though  his 
spirit  would  have  looked  through  them,  the  win 
dows  of  the  firmament,  into  the  very  tabernacle  and 
abode  of  the  Omnipotent.  At  length  he  spoke  ar 
ticulately,  in  a  voice  deep,  slow,  majestic,  and  me 
lodious,  but  in  the  unconscious  tones  of  one  who 
meditates  or  prays  aloud,  without  reference  or 
respect  to  aught  external. 

"  Beautiful  light,"  he  said ;  "  beautiful  lamp  of 
heaven — what  marvel  that  the  blinded  and  benight 
ed  heathen  should  ignorantly  worship  thee  ?  What 
marvel  that  a  thousand  altars,  in  a  thousand  ages, 
should  have  sent  up  their  fumes  of  adoration  unto 
thee  the  mooned  Asntaroth,  unto  thee  the  Tauriform 
Diana,  unto  thee  the  nightly  visitant  of  the  young- 
eyed  Endymion  ?  What  marvel  that  to  those  who 
knew  not,  neither  had  they  heard  of  the  One,  Un- 
create,  Invisible,  Eternal,  thou  shouldst  have  seemed 
meet  Deity  to  wh^om  tq  bend  the  knee, — thou  first 
born  offspring  of  his  first-created  gift — thou  blessed 
emanation  from  his  own  ethereal  glory — when  I, 
his  humble  follower,  his  ardent  though  unworthy 
worshipper, — when  I,  an  honest  though  an  erring 
Christian,  do  strive  in  vain  to  wean  my  heart  from 
love  of  thee ;  indoctrinating  so  my  spirit  that  I 
may  kiss  the  rod  with  which,  I  am  assured  too 
well,  HE  soon  will  chastise  me,  in  changing  the 
fair  light,  that  glorious  essence  in  which  my  soul 
rejoiceth,  for  one  black,  everlasting,  self-imparted 
midnight  ?  Yet  so  it  shall  be.  A  few  more  revo 
lutions  of  these  puissant  planets, — a  few  more  mu 
tations  of  the  sweet-returning  seasons, — and  to  me 
there  shall  be  no  change  again  on  earth  for  ever ! 


40  CROMWELL. 

No  choice  between  the  fairest  and  the  foulest !    No 
difference  of  night  or  day !     No  charm  in  the  rich 
gorgeousness  of  flowery  summer  above  the  sere 
and  mournful  autumn !     No  cheery  aspect  in  the 
piled  hearth   of  winter!     No   sweet  communion 
with  the  human  eye  compassionate !     No  inter 
course  with  the  great  intellects  of  old,  dead,  yet 
surviving  still  in  their  sublime  and  solid  pages  !" 
He  paused  for  a  space,  as  though  he  were  too 
deeply  moved  to  trust  his  thoughts  to  language ; 
but,  after  a  moment,  drawing  his  hand  across  his 
eyes — "  But  if  it  be  so,"  he  continued,  "  as  I  may 
not  doubt  it  will — if  his  fiat  be  pronounced  against 
me  of  dark  corporeal  blindness,  what  duty  yet  re 
mains  ?     What — but  to  labour  that  the  blindness 
be  not  mental  also  ?    What — but  to  treasure  up 
even  now,  during  my  brief-permitted  time,  such 
stores  of  hoarded  wisdom  as  may  in  part  suffice, 
like  to  the  summer-gathered  riches  of  the  indus 
trious  and  thrifty  bee,  to  nourish  and  to  cheer  me 
at  the  coming  of  my  senseless  season  ?     What — 
but  to  profit,  even  as  best  I  may,  by  those  good 
opportunities  which  his  great  mercy  hath  vouch 
safed  to  me ;  to  sow  the  seed  even  now,  during  the 
fertile  autumn,  that  by  his  blessing  it  may  swell 
and  germinate  during  the  brumal  darkness  of  the 
approaching  winter,  and  in  his  good  time  give  forth 
to  light  a  crop  improved  and  gloriously  surpassing 
that  from  which  it  sprung?     What — but  to  give 
thanks  alway,  and  to  praise  the  tender-heartedness 
and  love  of  Him,  to  whom  it  were  no  harder  task 
to  plunge  the  mind  in  lunatic  and  senseless  stupor, 
than  to  seal  up  the  fount  of  light  to  the  poor  eye. 
Of  Him,  who,  giving  all  the  thousand  blessings  I 
enjoy,  judges  it  fitting  to  deprive  me  but  of  one, 
haply  that  from  its  single  loss  others  may  fructify, 
and  bear  good  harvest  to  my  use  ?    Wherefore,  oh 


CROMWELL.     %  41 

merciful  and  mighty  One,  be  it  unto  me  as  thou 
wiliest,  and  thou  only.  And  oh !  above  all  things, 
be  it  unto  me,  as  now,  so  alway,  humbly  to  cry, 
and  happily,  Thy  will  be  done." 

Even  as  the  pious  scholar  brought  his  medita 
tions  to  a  close,  the  footsteps  of  one  advancing, 
though  still  unseen,  through  the  mazes  of  the 
shrubbery,  were  heard  upon  the  crisp  and  crack 
ling  gravel;  and,  ere  he  had  resumed  his  hat, 
which  was  steeple-crowned  and  of  the  puritanic 
fashion,  the  intruder  made  his  appearance,  in  the 
guise  of  an  humbly-clad  and  grave-eyed  serving- 
man,  who  announced,  in  phrase  ungarnished  by 
much  form  of  reverence  toward  his  master,  the 
presence  of  three  gentlemen  within,  praying  to 
speak  with  him. 

"In  faith,"  returned  the  other,  "in  faith,  good 
Andrew,  'tis  an  unseasonable  hour  for  visitants  ! 
Who  be  these  gentles  ?" 

"  Master  Cromwell  is  among  them,"  answered 
the  attendant;  "but  of  the  rest  I  know  not,  save 
that  I  heard  the  name  of  St.  John  pass  between 
them.  They  await  your  coming  in  the  summer 
parlour." 

Without  farther  query  or  reply,  the  scholar,  as 
if  satisfied  that  his  presence  was  indeed  required, 
traversed  the  garden  with  quick  steps ;  and  en 
tering  the  house,  a  small  but  cheerful  dwelling, 
through  an  entrance  hung  round  with  maps  and 
charts  of  statistics  or  chronology,  passed  to  the 
chamber  in  which  his  guests  expected  him.  It 
was  a  pleasant  room,  with  a  bay-window  look 
ing  upon  the  garden,  but  cheaply  decorated  with 
hangings  of  green  serge,  to  which  a  splendid  or 
gan,  by  the  first  maker  of  the  day,  and  a  choice 
collection  of  rare  books,  several  of  the  number 
being  papyri  of  great  worth,  afforded  a  remarkable 
D2 


42  CROMWELL. 

• 

contrast.  In  the  recess  formed  by  the  window 
there  stood  a  reading-desk,  curiously  carved  in 
old  black  oak,  with  cushions  of  green  velvet, 
somewhat  the  worse  for  wear,  supporting  a  noble 
folio  Bible  in  the  Greek  text  of  Geneva.  The 
table  was  loaded  with  a  heterogeneous  mass  of 
books  and  papers,  an  original  manuscript  of  the 
Bacchae  of  Euripides,  reposing  on  a  Hebrew  copy 
of  the  Septuagint,  and  a  stray  duodecimo  of  Pe 
trarch's  sonnets,  marking  the  place  at  which  the 
reader  had  closed  the  pages  of  a  huge  tome  of 
controversial  divinity;  while,  on  a  marble  slab 
opposite  the  chimney,  lay  a  couple  of  foils,  with 
their  wire  masks  and  gloves,  partially  hidden  by 
the  draperies  of  a  threadbare  mantle  of  black  vel 
vet  ;  a  violin,  a  guitar,  some  written  music,  and, 
peering  out  from  beneath  the  whole,  the  iron  bas 
ket-hilt  and  glittering  scabbard  of  a  heavy  broad 
sword. 

In  this  the  student's  sanctum,  he  found  the  three 
gentlemen  who  had  been  announced,  evidently  en 
gaged  in  whispered  conversation  of  deep  import, 
for  they  did  not  perceive  the  presence,  till  he  had 
stood  for  a  moment  or  two  almost  beside  them,  of 
their  host;  who  had  thus  ample  opportunity  of 
examining  their  persons,  by  the  light  of  a  brazen 
lamp  of  antique  form,  with  several  burners,  which 
hung  from  the  ceiling  immediately  above  the  ab 
stracted  group.  Nearly  opposite  the  door,  with 
his  searching  eyes  fixed  upon  another  of  the  com 
pany,  who  was  speaking  with  considerable  em 
phasis,  though  in  an  under  tone,  stood  the  same 
individual  who  had  assisted  Ardenne  on  the  night 
of  his  adventure  near  to  Royston ;  wearing  the 
very  garb  in  which  he  had  appeared  on  that  occa 
sion,  save  that,  for  his  riding-boots,  he  had  sub 
stituted  a  pair  of  coarse  gray  woollen  stockings, 


CROMWELL.  43 

drawn  tight  to  the  mid-thigh,  with  ill-blacked 
shoes  of  calfskin,  laced  to  the  instep,  and  bearing 
neither  rose  nor  buckle.  The  speaker,  to  whose 
words  he  lent  so  careful  heed,  was  a  tall  and  slen 
der  person,  handsomely,  though  gloomily,  attired 
in  a  full  suit  of  black,  with  silken  hose  and  velvet 
cloak  to  match,  a  mourning  rapier  hanging  at  his 
side,  though  evidently  worn  for  fashion  rather  than 
for  use.  His  countenance,  though  not  of  pleasant 
favour,  much  less  such  as  could  be  termed  hand 
some,  was  nevertheless  one  from  which  men  could 
not  easily  withdraw  their  eyes,  possessing  attri 
butes  of  unquestionable  talent,  though  accompanied 
by  an  expression  which  none  so  dull  but  they  would 
wish  to  fathom.  His  eyes,  which  were  large  and 
black,  had  a  bright  and  flashing  glance  when 
under  influence  of  excitement  almost  painful  to 
the  beholder ;  while  a  continual,  and,  as  it  would 
seem,  involuntary  sneer,  sat  on  his  thin  and  wri 
thing  lip.  His  hair,  black  as  the  raven's  wing,  was 
long  and  curling,  though  not  worn  after  the  flow 
ing  fashion  of  the  cavaliers ;  but  the  most  remark 
able  trait  of  his  aspect  was  the  immoveable  gloom 
which  overshadowed  his  dark  saturnine  features 
with  a  cloud  so  constant,  that  it  has  been  recorded 
of  him,  that  seldom,  even  in  his  moments  of  hilar 
ity,  was  he  beheld  to  smile.  The  remaining  person 
of  the  trio  was  a  finer  and  more  comely  man  than 
either  of  his  comrades ;  fairly  proportioned,  though 
not  above  the  middle  height,  with  a  brow  rather 
full  than  lofty,  a  quick  and  penetrating  eye,  and  an 
intelligent  expression,  thoughtful  rather  than  grave, 
and  with  no  touch  of  sternness  or  morosity  on  his 
noble  features,  lighted  up,  as  they  were  from  time 
to  time,  by  a  smile  of  singular  and  cheerful  sweet 
ness.  He  was  habited  as  became  a  gentleman,  in 
a  rich  garb  of  marone-coloured  velvet,  his  costly 


44  CROMWELL. 

sword  suspended  from  a  scarf  of  good  white  taf 
feta,  and  a  white  feather  in  his  beaver ;  the  whole — 
though  plain  enough,  if  compared  with  the  luxuri 
ous  bravery  of  the  cavaliers,  whose  dresses  would 
oftentimes  have  been  too  cheaply  rated  at  a  year's 
income  of  their  patrimony — conveying  an  idea  of 
absolute  magnificence,  when  viewed  beside  the 
simple  habiliments  of  his  fellow-visiters.  After  he 
had  surveyed  this  group  for  a  few  moments'  space, 
satisfied  apparently  with  the  survey,  the  master 
of  the  house  stepped  forward,  startling  them  slight 
ly  by  his  motion,  and  cutting  short  their  converse. 

"  Give  you  good  evening,  Master  Cromwell,"  he 
said,  addressing  himself  to  the  most  slovenly-ap 
parelled  of  the  company  ;  "  it  shames  me  to  have 
caused  you  wait  my  coming." 

"  Not  so,  good  sir,"  returned  the  other ;  "  it  is 
we  rather  who  have  trespassed  on  your  studies, 
coming  thus  at  an  hour  surely  unseasonable.  But, 
of  a  truth,  I  had  forgotten — I  pray  you.  Master 
Milton,"  for  it  was  no  other  than  the  immortal 
poet,  who  had  deplored,  in  such  heartfelt  yet  un- 
repining  language,  the  advent  of  that  dread  calam 
ity,  which  had  already  been  predicted  to  him  by 
the  first  physicians  of  the  day  as  the  sure  conse 
quence  of  his  persisting  in  his  arduous  and  unre- 
mitted  labours, — "  I  pray  you,  Master  Milton, 
know  these  most  worthy  and  God-fearing  gentle 
men  !  This,"  motioning  with  his  hand  toward  the 
taller  and  more  gloomy  figure,  "this,  my  good 
friend,  Master  Olivef^St.  John  ;  and  this,  my  well- 
beloved  and  trusty  cousin,  honest  John  Hampden." 

"  Of  a  truth,  Master  Cromwell,"  replied  the 
poet — in  those  days  better  known  by  his  magnifi 
cent  and  stately  prose,  for  a  controversial  writer 
of  unequalled  power,  than  by  the  slight  though 
beautiful  effusions  of  poetry  which  hitherto  he  had 


CROMWELL.  45 

cast  forth  merely  as  the  erratic  sports  of  leisure 
moments,  stolen  from  graver  studies,  and  not  yet 
as  the  sublime  continuous  soarings  of  his  unrivalled 
genius, — "  of  a  truth,  Master  Cromwell,  I  owe 
you  more  of  thanks  than  I  am  wont  to  offer,  that 
you  have  brought  to  my  poor  dwelling  these,  the 
most  constant  and  the  noblest  cultivators  of  that 
fair  vineyard,  to  the  renewal  and  reform  of  which 
I  too,  an  humble  fellow-tiller,  have  devoted  my 
unworthy  labours  !"  And  he  turned  to  the  com 
panions  of  his  friend,  esteemed  already  by  all  the 
worshippers  of  freedom  as  the  wisest,  the  purest, 
and  the  best  of  her  adorers  ! — as  the  pilots,  who 
might  alone  be  trusted  to  hold  the  shattered  helm 
of  state  aright,  amid  the  terrors,  the  confusion,  and 
the  storm  of  the  approaching  crisis  ! — as  the  cham 
pions,  who  had  already  reared  the  banner  of  un 
daunted  opposition  to  all  that  was  corrupt,  or  bigot 
ed,  or  arbitrary,  in  religious  or  in  civil  rule  ! — as 
the  leaders,  who,  above  all  others,  were  endowed 
with  the  talent,  and  the  worth,  and,  more  than 
these,  with  the  unflinching  energy  to  wring  the 
iron  sceptre  of  usurped  prerogative  from  the  high 
hand  that  wielded  it  with  such  despotic- sway ! 
He  greeted  them  with  words  savouring  more  of 
courteous  deference  than  of  that  plain-spoken  and 
uncompromising  brevity,  on  the  use  of  which  his 
party  prided  themselves  so  deeply  in  their  inter 
course  of  man  with  man.  There  was,  however, 
nothing  of  vain  or  worldly  adulation,  much  less  of 
that  fawning  sycophancy,  that  low  servile  man- 
worship,  for  which  the  courtiers  of  the  day  were 
so  deservedly  contemned  by  the  stern  puritans,  in 
his  frank  though  reverential  bearing. 

After  a  few  seconds  spent  in  civilities,  which 
were  accepted,  as  indeed  they  were  intended,  for 
the  befitting  homage  of  one  surpassing  intellect  to 


46  CROMWELL. 

others,  though  in  a  different  sphere,  of  not  inferior 
merit — homage,  degrading  not  the  giver,  while  it 
added  to  the  real  dignity  of  the  receiver, — the  party 
fell  into  the  ordinary  demeanour  of  men  familiar, 
if  not  with  the  persons,  at  least  with  the  minds  and 
principles  each  of  the  other ;  and  the  conversation 
flowed  as  quietly  on  the  accustomed  topics  of  the 
time  as  though  the  speakers  had  been  in  the 
daily  wont  of  mingling  in  the  same  social  inter 
course.  There  was,  however,  not  only  naught  of 
levity  or  license,  but  naught  of  common  import  or 
every-day  occurrence,  in  the  interchanged  ideas  of 
those  high  spirits,  devoted,  one  and  all,  to  the 
same  pursuit  of  patriotism,  and  equally  engrossed 
in  the  quick-succeeding  incidents  of  fearful  and 
pervading  interest,  which  rendered  every  hour  of 
that  eventful  year  a  great  historic  epoch. 

"  Have  ye  received  aught  new  from  Ireland," 
inquired  the  poet — "  ye  of  the  lower  house,  touch 
ing  this  perilous  and  damnable  rebellion  ?" 

"  Ay,  of  a  surety  have  we  !"  answered  Crom 
well,  "  full  confirmation — full,  ay,  and  overflowing 
all  that  we  had  heard  before !" 

"  All  Ulster  is  in  one  light  blaze,"  cried  St.  John, 
his  dark  eye  flashing  with  indignant  fire  ;  "  the 
forts  all  captured,  and  that  most  subtle  villain,  Phe- 
lim  O'Neil,  wading  knee-deep — with  thirty  thou 
sand  fanatic  and  phrensied  papists — knee-deep  in 
Protestant  and  English  gore !  Connaught  and  Lein- 
ster  revelling  in  red-handed  massacre,  and  the  five 
counties  of  the  Pale,  arrayed  by  the  lords-justices 
to  quell  the  insurrection,  united  to  their  brother 
rebels !" 

"  None  may  conceive  the  horrors — none  may 
enumerate  the  sufferings — or  recount  the  wretched 
sufferers,"  continued  Hampden,  a  deep  shade  of 
melancholy  settling  down  on  his  fine  lineaments ; 


CROMWELL.  47 

"at  the  least  reckoning,  twenty  thousand  of  our 
brethren,  men,  women,  and  children,  yea,  the  very 
infants  at  the  breast,  have  perished  !  No  insult, 
no  atrocity,  that  Romish  perfidy  could  plan,  or 
fiendish  cruelty  perform — no  last  extremity  of 
famine,  cold,  or  torture,  has  been  spared  to  their 
defenceless  victims  by  the  barbarian  Irish — the 
very  priests  setting  the  torch  of  midnight  confla 
gration  to  the  planter's  dwelling,  and  hounding  on 
their  furious  followers  to  massacre  and  havoc  !" 

"  But  of  the  king,  fair  sirs  ?" 

"  Well  hast  thou  said,  John  Milton,"  interrupt 
ed  the  harsh  voice  of  Cromwell  before  the  other 
had  concluded  his  inquiry  ;  "  well  hast  thou  said 
and  truly  !  'tis  of  that  man  of  Belial !  ay,  root  and 
branch  of  him,  and  his  self-seeking  carnal  cava 
liers  !" 

"  It  is,  we  fear,  too  true — "  said  Hampden,  in  re 
ply  to  the  bewildered  looks  of  the  anxious  auditor  ; 
*'  it  is,  we  fear,  too  true  !  O'Neil,  in  his  dark  proc 
lamation,  boasts  openly  his  own  authority  from 
the  great  seal  of  Scotland.  Sir  William  St.  Leger, 
trusty  alike  and  brave,  hath,  as  we  learn,  dismis 
sed  his  levies,  and  laid  down  the  arms  he  had 
assumed  on  the  first  outbreak  of  the  rebels,  at 
sight  of  a  commission,  with  Charles  Stuart's  man 
ual  sign,  held  by  that  murderous  bigot  Lord  Mus- 
•querry." 

"  And  last,  not  least,'*  sneered  Oliver  St.  John, 
41  Mac  Mahon  hath  confessed,  at  shrewd  solicita 
tion  of  the  rack,  that  the  original  scheme  of  this 
rebellion  was  brought  to  Ireland,  from  our  gra 
cious  king  and  governor,  by  Dillon  and  the  mem 
bers  of  the  late  committee." 

"  Of  a  truth,"  said  Cromwell,  in  reply  to  the 
words  of  his  milder  cousin,  "  of  a  truth,  there  may 
be  cause  for  fear,  ay,  and  for  grief — yet  where- 


48  CROMWELL. 

fore  ?  Verily  'tis  a  hard  thing  to  rejoice,  to  re* 
joice  in  the  midst  of  slaughter  and  abomination ! 
Yet  who  shall  deem  or  boast  himself  to  know  of 
that  which  is  to  come,  save  He  that  holdeth  the 
end,  I  say  the  end  and  the  accomplishment  of  all 
things,  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand  ?  But  I  will  tell 
ye  this — yea,  but  mistake  me  not, — this  will  I 
avouch  to  ye,  that  I  fear  not,  but  do  rejoice  !  Tis 
a  sad  thing,  in  truth,  that  an  anointed  king,  even  a 
king  in  Israel,  should  arm  his  hand  against  his 
people,  and  turn  away  his  countenance  from  the 
well-beloved  of  the  Lord,  inclining  his  ear  like 
wise  unto  the  idolatries  of  the  beast,  and  unto  the 
charmirigs  of  the  Moabitish  woman;  yea,  and 
pour  out  the  vials  of  his  wrath  upon  the  heads  of 
the  sons  of  righteousness  !  But,  of  a  surety,  it  is 
not  for  a  man  to  judge  save  thus — for  I  will  speak 
even  as  it  is  put  into  my  mouth, — save  thus — that, 
to  a  man  foreweaponed  and  forewarned,  less  dan 
gerous  is  an  open  enemy — yea,  if  he  be  mightier 
by  tenfold, — than  one  who  lurketh  privily  beneath 
the  vesture  of  a  friend,  looking  in  secret  whom  he 
may  devour !" 

"Forewarned  indeed  ye  are,"  replied  the  poet, 
musingly,  "  and  your  own  fault  'twill  be  if  ye  be 
not  foreweaponed  likewise  ;  for,  in  good  sooth,  I  do 
believe  the  lives  of  none  are  safe — the  lives  and  lib 
erties  of  none  who  dare  uplift  their  voices  in  defence 
ftf  England's  constitution  or  the  church's  purity." 

"  And  is  it  not  to  this  end,"  cried  Oliver,  "  and  is 
it  not  to  this  end  that  we  are  watching,  even  now, 
with  our  loins  girded,  and  our  lights  burning, 
watching  unto  the  protection  of  those  that  are  de 
fenceless,  and  unto  the  enlightening  of  those  that 
sit  in  darkness  ?  And  is  it  not  to  this  end  that  we 
have  now  come  to  thee,  John  Milton,  trusting  to 
gain  a  strong  ally — even  a  valiant,  and  a  heart- 


CROMWELL.  49 

whole,  and  a  spirit-serving  soldier  ! — seeking  to 
learn  from  thee — so  far  as  it  is  for  man  to  learn 
of  man,  yet  neither  confident  in  worldly  wisdom, 
which  is  ignorance  before  the  Lord,  nor  relying 
altogether  on  the  judgment  of  a  fellow-worm,  how 
excellent  soever  he  may  be  in  the  gifts  of  carnal 
knowledge, — seeking,  I  say,  to  learn  from  thee 
the  character  and  principles  of  one  with  whom 
we  do  believe  that  you  so  long  have  communed  as 
to  know  the  thoughts  of  his  heart,  ay,  and  to  inter 
pret  the  workings  of  his  inward  man  !" 

"  Such  is  indeed  our  object,"  continued  Hamp- 
den,  while  St.  John  fixed  his  searching  eye  upon 
the  beautiful  features  of  the  listener  with  keen 
and  interested  scrutiny  ;  "  such  is  indeed  our  ob 
ject  in  this  untimely  visit.  We  have  but  now  re 
ceived  intelligence  of  the  decease  of  that  shrewd 
counsellor  and  honest  patriot,  Elias  Chaloner,  the 
fellow-townsman  of  my  worthy  cousin  Cromwell, 
and  lately  member  for  the  godly  town  of  Hunting 
don  ;  and,  with  this  same  intelligence,  the  great 
charge  has  been  laid  upon  us,  by  the  zealous 
burghers  of  the  place,  of  commending  to  their 
choice  a  person  who  shall  honourably  fill  the  post 
of  him  that  is  departed." 

"And  how?  you  would  ask,  John  Milton," 
Cromwell  broke  in,  "  for  I  can  read  the  query  on 
your  brow — how,  you  would  ask,  can  you  assist 
us  in  this  matter  ?  Verily  thus — for  it  hath  been 
suggested  to  our  souls  when  we  were  seeking  out 
the  Lord  in  prayer,  yea,  wrestling  with  him  in  the 
spirit,  that  he  should  guide  us  to  a  sure  election, — 
it  was, — I  tell  you  truth,  I  do  profess, — borne  in 
upon  the  ears  of  our  minds,  as  with  an  audible  and 
spoken  voice,  'Ye  shall  call  to  aid  the  man — 
even  the  young  man — Edgar  Ardenne — ' " 

"  With  whom,"  interrupted  St.  John,  evidently 
VOL.  I.— E 


50  CROMWELL. 

weary  of  the  prolix,  verbose  haranguing  of  the 
other,  "  with  whom,  as  we  are  well  assured,  you, 
Master  Milton,  have  mingled  much  in  foreign 
travel,  having  thereby  good  opportunity  to  judge 
of  his  opinions  and  to  learn  his  heart.  We  would 
hear  from  you,  therefore,  worthy  sir,  whether  this 
gentleman  of  high  extraction,  born  of  a  race  devo 
tedly,  I  had  wellnigh  said  slavishly,  loyal — wheth 
er  this  gentleman  be  indeed,  as  we  would  wish  to 
find  him,  a  firm,  uncompromising  lover  of  his 
country — one  who  would  pledge  himself,  and 
keep  his  plight  religiously,  to  advance  the  views 
and  serve  the  interests  of  our  party !  May  it 
please  you,  tell  us  fully  what  of  yourself  you 
know,  and  what  may  be  your  judgment  of  this 
your  fellow-traveller — and,  above  all,  whether  he 
may  be  wrought,  and  by  what  means,  to  further 
our  purposes !" 

"  For  years,"  replied  the  poet,  after  a  moment's 
pause,  "  for  years  have  I  been  wont  to  read  the 
living  minds  of  men  with  even  more  of  study  than  I 
have  expended  on  their  embalmed  and  written 
thoughts — for  years  ! — and  never — I  can  say  it 
honestly  and  freely,  for  I  do  believe  I  know  his 
inmost  aspirations  even  as  I  am  conscious  of  my 
own — never  have  I  found,  or  even  read  of  such  a 
head,  combined  with  such  a  heart,  as  that  of  Edgar 
Ardenne.  A  worshipper  of  wisdom,  of  liberty,  of 
truth — purer  and  far  more  fervently  devoted  than 
the  great  spirits  of  the  old  republics !  A  scholar 
in  the  study,  and  that  too  of  the  ripest — an  orator 
in  the  forum,  strong,  stirring,  and  persuasive — a 
soldier  in  the  field,  well  tried,  and  as  well  proven ! 
An  adorer  of  all  that  is  beautiful,  but  one  who  sees 
no  beauty  save  in  virtue !  A  Christian,  fervent 
and  sincere,  yet  tolerant,  and  of  much  charity ! 
Ambitious — but  ambitious  only  to  do  good !  If 


CROMWELL.  61 

ever  there  was  born  a  man  wholly  unselfish,  that 
man  is  Edgar  Ardenne.  Such — and  on  my  judg 
ment  well  may  you  rely — such  is  the  man  whom 
you  would  take  into  your  counsels.  Gain  him, 
then — gain  him,  if  ye  may — for  certainly  as  Ed 
gar  Ardenne  could  achieve  aught  to  benefit  his 
country,  though  every  hope,  every  feeling,  every 
passion  of  his  soul  were  listed  to  oppose  it,  so  cer 
tainly  would  he  tread  hope,  feeling,  passion,  into 
the  very  dust  beneath  his  feet.  He  has  a  head  so 
clear,  he  cannot  fail  to  see  the  right — he  has  a 
heart  so  true,  he  would  not  fail — though  at  the 
price  of  all  he  holds  most  dear — io  follow  it.  Be 
ware,  however, — beware,  if  ye  decide  to  gain  him, 
how  you  show  aught  of  doubt,  much  less  suspicion ! 
— proffer  to  him  the  seat  for  Huntingdon  untram 
melled  !  say  not  a  word  of  party — not  a  word  of 
opposition  to  the  court — make  ye  not  one  condi 
tion — ask  not  one  pledge  ! — for  had  ye  heaven 
itself  to  tender  him,  and  were  to  tender  it,  so  bri 
bing  him — ay,  were  it  even  to  act  well — my  life  ! 
he  would  refuse  even  heaven !  If,  therefore,  ye 
can  resolve  unpledged  to  trust  him,  seek  not  to 
sound  his  views — for  as  well  might  ye  assay  to 
fathorn  the  most  central  depths  of  ocean  ; — seek  not 
to  bind  his  actions — for  as  well  might  ye  go  forth 
to  chain  the  subtle  and  pervading  lightning; — but 
proffer  to  him,  in  plain  terms,  the  seat — at  the  free 
choice  of  the  burghers — and  if  he  do  accept  it,  as 
well  I  trust  he  will,  be  sure  there  is  no  man  in 
England  that  better  knows  the  duties  of  a  member 
in  the  commons  House  of  Parliament,  or  trulier  will 
discharge  them !" 

"  You  have  described,"  replied  the  calm  and 
meditative  Hampden,  "  you  have  indeed  descri 
bed  a  man,  such  as  there  are  but  few  this  side 
the  grave !  Your  words,  too,  tally  well  with 


52  CROMWELL. 

the    surmises    I    have   formed    from   his   known 
actions !" 

"And  would  you  then,"  asked  the  moody  St. 
John,  "  would  you  then  set  so  great  a  matter  on 
the  casting  of  a  die  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  even 
now  we  have  but  a  majority — not  over-strong  nor 
over-certain  ? — that  many  have  been  already  won 
or  put  to  silence — that  Hyde  and  his  moderate  par 
tisans  daily  gain  strength,  and  only  lack  occasion 
to  join  the  court  in  open  and  unblushing  servitude  ? 
Know  you  not  that  Falkland  wavers,  and  that,  if 
he  go  over,  ten  votes  at  least  will  instantly  apos 
tatize  ?  and  would  you  then  elect  this  cavalier,  for 
such  in  truth  he  is,  on  vague  hopes  and  uncertain 
indications  ?" 

"  I  said  not  so,"  replied  Hampden,  quickly ;  "  I 
said  not  so !  but  only  that  I  believe  him  wise  and 
honest !  Farther  I  will  say  now,  that — if,  on  any 
terms,  we  shall  decide  to  recommend  him  to  the 
choice  of  the  electors — my  voice  is  for  so  doing 
with  nothing  of  restriction !  If  he  be  honest,  it 
needs  not  to  bind  him  by  a  promise — if  otherwise, 
'twere  madness  to  suppose  that  promises  will  bind 
him !  But  on  this  matter  we  will  speak  more 
anon — we  have  already  trespassed  over  long  upon 
the  leisure  and  the  patience  of  our  honourable 
host." 

St.  John  replied  not;  and  Cromwell,  who  had 
perhaps  made  up  his  mind  already,  had  fallen  into 
a  long  and  rambling  exposition  of  some  doctrinal 
point,  wholly  remote  from  the  subject  in  question, 
to  which  Milton  listened  with  a  tranquil  smile  play 
ing  about  his  well-turned  lip,  and  with  the  aim  appa 
rently  of  discovering  what  was  the  meaning,  if  there 
indeed  were  any,  of  the  wild  and  ill-digested  ora 
tory  of  the  member  for  Cambridge,  at  this  time  just 
beginning  to  attract  the  notice  of  the  house,  though 


CROMWELL. 


53 


no  one  could  perhaps  assign  a  cause  for  his  in 
creasing  influence.  For  a  short  space  the  others 
spoke  apart,  warmly,  though  in  an  under  tone — 
Hampden,  as  it  seemed,  urging  on  his  grave  con 
federate  some  dubious  or  unpalatable  measure  ;  the 
energy  of  his  manner  gradually  rising,  while  the 
opposition  of  his  friend  waxed  fainter,  until  the 
habitual  sneer  departed  from  his  lip,  and  the  accus 
tomed  cloud  partially  yielded  to  an  opener  and  more 
cheery  aspect.  "  Be  it  so  !"  he  said  at  length,  rais 
ing  his  voice,  as  the  discussion  was  finished  by  his 
assent ;  "  be  it  so,  if  you  will — and,  in  faith,  I  be 
lieve  you  are  in  the  righfr  on't !  Now,  Master 
Cromwell,"  he  continued,  turning  toward  him  as 
he  spoke,  "  it  lacks  but  a  scant  hour  of  midnight, 
and  our  host's  oil,  I  trow,  is  wont  to  lend  its  light 
to  purposes  of  more  importance  than  our  farther 
converse !  Give  you  good  night,  fair  sir,"  he 
added,  with  a  short  inclination  to  the  poet,  as, 
gathering  his  cloak  about  him,  he  led  his  com 
rades,  after  brief  ceremony,  into  the  moon-lit 
streets ;  while  he  whom  he  had  last  addressed 
applied  himself,  in  solitary  diligence,  to  the  exer 
cise  of  his  pen,  slight  instrument  of  mightiest  pow 
ers,  whether  for  good  or  evil,  and,  in  the  hand  of 
the  philosopher,  prime  mover  of  more  potent  revo 
lutions  than  its  dread  rival  and  confederate — the 
mortal  sword ! 

E  2 


54  CROMWELL. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  Oh  what  more  blest  than  that  serene  repose, 
Which  steeps  the  soul  forespent  with  foreign  woes, 
What  time  we  turn,  our  weary  wanderings  o'er, 
To  the  old  homestead,  thence  to  roam  no  moie^^gjjjt 
And  stretch  our  limbs  in»calm  luxurious  rest, 
On  the  dear  bed  our  careless  childhood  pressed." 

CATULLUS. — Free  Translation. 

NONE  know,  but  those  who  have  for  years  been 
wanderers  from  the  paternal  roof,  whether  of  choice 
or  of  necessity  it  matters  not, — who  have  for  years 
been  sojourners,  not  dwellers,  on  the  broad  desert 
earth, — who,  in  the  midst  of  friends  almost  as  dear 
as  those,  who  girt  as  with  a  magic  cestus  the  un- 
forgotten  fireside  of  their  childhood,  have  craved, 
with  an  insatiate  and  yearning  appetite,  the  well- 
known  aspect  of  the  old  home-places, — who  have 
languished  for  a  father's  blessing,  a  mother's  wist 
ful  eye,  a  sister's  holy  kiss, — who  have  felt,  with 
the  patriotic  Syrian,  that  "  Abana  and  Pharpar, 
rivers  of  Damascus,"  are  truly  to  the  exile  "  better 
than  all  the  waters  of  Israel ;" — none  know,  but 
these,  the  deep  calm  happiness  of  being  once  again 
the  centre  of  that  sweet  domestic  circle ;  of  re 
ceiving  the  fond  welcome  of  every  living  thing — 
ay,  even  to  the  household  dog,  or  superannuated 
horse,  that  yelps  or  whinnies  in  the  fulness  of  his 
recognition ;  of  lying  down  to  rest  beneath  the  very 
curtains,  and  on  the  very  bed,  which  had  so  often 
wooed  them  to  repose  before  they  knew  the  bitter 
ness  of  sin  or  sorrow. 

Fully  indeed,  and  far  more  sensibly  than  it  is 
tasted  by  the  common  pilgrim  of  life's  journey,  did 


CROMWELL.  55 

this  impression  of  tranquil  bliss  pervade  the  breast 
of  Ardenne,  as  he  leaned,  gazing  upon  the  familiar 
landscape,  from  out  the  open  casement  of  his  cham 
ber  ; — that  chamber,  which  had  never  for  a  moment 
faded  from  his  memory,  with  its  oaken  wainscoting 
and  faded  tapestries, — its  angular  recesses,  peopled 
by  his  youthful  fantasy  with  lurking  shapes  of 
tejffor, — its  pleasant  seats  in" the  deep  bay  windows, 
• — its  brazen-handled  cabinets  of  quaint  device — its 
bed  with  sculptured  tester  and  dark  hangings, — and, 
more  than  all,  its  ebon  desk,  with  the  velvet-bound 
and  silver-studded  Bible,  whence  his  long-lost  and 
long-regretted  mother  had  lessoned  him  so  lovingly 
while  he  was  yet  a  boy. 

The  moonlight  lay  upon  the  velvet  park  •  and 
tufted  elms,  as  though  it  loved  to  sleep  among 
that  peaceful  scenery ;  and  if,  at  intervals,  it  shone 
reflected  from  the  surface  of  some  quiet  water,  it 
lingered  even  there  with  a  half-shadowed  lustre, 
not  flashing  out  with  the  bright  gleams  of  gorgeous 
sunshine,  but  calmly  harmonizing  with  the  spirit 
of  the  place  and  hour.  So  clear,  however,  was  the 
mellow  light,  that  the  graceful  attitudes  of  the 
slumbering  deer  might  be  distinguished  on  the 
open  lawns,  while  the  pinion  of  the  gliding  owl 
was  seen  to  glance  against  the  massy  shadows  of 
the  surrounding  forest.  Yet  now,  although  he 
gazed  upon  all  that  was  most  beautiful  of  natural 
scenery, — all  that  was  most  endeared  to  him  by 
boyish  recollections, — although  he  was  surrounded 
by  the  very  objects  that  he  had  most  earnestly  desi 
red  to  see, — although  he  was  at  the  very  point  which 
he  but  yesterday  would  have  esteemed  the  summit 
of  fruition — he  was  not  happy.  It  is  true,  that  he 
had  found  in  her  on  whom  his  mind  had  dwelt  most 
fondly  and  most  frequently  during  his  absence,  the 
very  being  he  had  loved  so  fervently  of  yore — bear- 


56  CROMWELL. 

ing  no  traces  of  the  years  which  had  elapsed,  save 
in  the  ripening  of  her  mind  to  excellent  maturity, 
and  in  the  rounding  of  her  sylph-like  figure  into 
the  exquisite  proportions  of  young  womanhood ! 
It  is  true  that  the  father,  whom  he  had  honoured 
and  obeyed  with  that  old-fashioned  filial  reverence, 
which — ill  betide  the  change — has  long  since  passed 
away,  together  with  the  diamond-hilled  rapiers,  aud 
the  somewhat  formal  courtesy  of  our  progenitors, 
had  welcomed  hioi  to  his  affections,  a  man  yet  in 
the  prime  of  inte^ectual  vigour !  It  is  true  that 
he  had  brought  back  to  his  native  land  a  heart  \Ai- 
tainted  by  the  follies  and  the  sins  of  foreign  coun 
tries  ;  a  mind  well  satisfied,  not  by  the  baseless 
arguments  of  boyish  prejudice,  but  by  the  strong 
convictions  of  experience,  that  his  own  •  earth-fast 
island  was  indeed  the  home  best  calculated  for  the 
seekers  of  that  sweet  domestic  quietude,  that  fire 
side,  church-going  happiness — that  calm  enjoy 
ment  of  the  duties,  the  labours,  and  the  pleasures 
of  a  country  life,  blent,  as  these  ever  are,  with  a 
romantic  taste  for  the  green  fields  and  slumbering 
woodlands,  the  gentle  river  and  the  smooth  hill 
side — which  have  at  all  times  formed  a  feature  so 
distinctive  in  the  English  character !  But  it  is  no 
less  true  that,  even  at  the  moment  when  his  hand 
might  have  been  said  to  grasp  all  that  his  soul  de 
sired,  his  spirit  was  disturbed,  and  his  heart  ill  at 
ease. 

It  were  perhaps  the  wisest,  as  it  surely  were  the 
happiest  course,  for  mortals  to  obey  the  dictates 
equally  inculcated  by  the  disciples  of  two  schools, 
which,  seemingly  the  most  at  variance  with  each 
other,  are  nevertheless  in  truth  as  similar  in  not  a 
few  essentials,  as  it  is  possible  for  creeds  to  be  in 
other  points  so  diverse  as  those  entertained  by  the 
followers  of  Epicurus  and — with  reverence  be  it 


CROMWELL.  57 

spoken — of  the  Saviour, — both  recommending — 
nay,  both  strenuously  urging  the  necessity,  and  in 
words  almost  identical,  that  we  "  take  no  heed  for 
the  morrow."  Yet,  in  a  mortal  sense,  obedience 
to  this  injunction  is  perhaps  impossible — impossi 
ble  at  least  to  any  man  endowed  with  enough  of 
intellect  and  mental  vigour  to  perceive  the  connexion 
between  present  causes  and  eventual  effects — to 
foresee  with  prescient  sagacity  the  crop  which  will 
spring  up  to-morrow  from  the  seed  laid  in  the 
ground  to-day ! — For  who  could  sit  at  ease,  ap 
preciating  the  full  quality  of  each  delicious  viand, 
pleasantly  debating  on  the  flavour  of  each  fragrant 
wine,  knowing  that  the  sword  of  Damocles  was 
swinging  by  a  single  hair — and  that,  too,  yielding  at 
every  instant  to  the  weight — above  his  head  ?  Had 
it  not  been  for  this — had  it  been  possible  for  Ar- 
denne  to  seal  up  his  eyes  arid  close  his  ears  against 
the  evidence  of  what  to-morrow  must  bring  forth — 
had  he  lacked  the  wisdom  to  discover  the'  future 
destinies  of  England,  her  vitals  even  now  con 
vulsed  by  the  first  throes  of  the  incipient  earth 
quake — or  the  patriotism  to  sympathize  with  the 
afflictions  which,  as  that  wisdom  taught  him,  must 
ere  another  year  befall  his  country — he  might  have 
surrendered  himself  to  momentary  pleasure,  care 
less  or  ignorant  of  the  approaching  wo.  And — so 
rare  of  occurrence,  and  so  brief  when  they  do  oc 
cur,  are  the  periods  during  human  life  even  of 
comparative  happiness — perhaps,  had  he  so  done, 
he  had  been  able  to  look  back  in  after  days  to 
more  of  sunny  hours  than  he  could  count  among 
the  strange  and  mingled  incidents  of  his  eventful 
life.  But,  constituted  as  he  was,  it  was  not  in  his 
power  to  fix  his  gaze  on  the  bright  present  aspect 
of  the  things  around  him,  without  observing  the 
huge  melancholy  clouds  which  were  rising  up  on 


58  CROMWELL. 

the  political  horizon,  threatening  to  overshadow 
with  their  gloomy  pall,  and  perhaps  to  overwhelm 
in  the  wild  tempest  they  must  soon  discharge,  the 
feeble  shallop  of  his  fortunes,  together  with  the 
stronger  vessel  of  the  constitution. 

At  an  early  period  of  his  life  a  visiter  of  south 
ern  lands — where  he  had  wandered,  not  to  mark 
alone  the  sunny  skies  and  desolated  fields,  the  ru 
ined  temples  and  the  beautiful  cascades,  but  to 
muse  on  the  condition  of  the  nations  once  so  pow 
erful  and  so  degraded  now  ;  to  ponder  on  their  rise 
and  fall ;  to  draw  deep  lessons  of  the  future  from 
the  contemplation  of  the  past ;  he  had  learned  to 
cherish  liberty  the  more  from  having  witnessed,  if 
not  himself  endured,  the  wrongs,  the  misery,  and 
the  oppression  of  unlimited  authority.  Summoned 
of  late  by  rumours  rife  throughout  the  world  of 
present  disagreement  and  of  coming  strife  between 
the  king  and  parliament  of  his  own  country,  he  had 
returned  to  England  at  the  instigation  of  his  natural 
sense  of  duties,  which  forbade  him  to  expend  his 
energies  of  heart  and  hand  in  the  service  of  a  for 
eign  prince,  when  both  might  be  required  to  aid  the 
better  cause  of  liberty  or  loyalty ;  no  less  than  at  the 
dictates  of  those  natural  affections  which,  sooner  or 
later,  will  point,  as  surely  as  the  magnetic  needle 
to  the  north,  toward  the  home  of  childhood.  While 
on  the  journey,  all  his  thoughts  had  been  of  joy- — 
of  that  serene  and  moderate  happiness  which 
makes  the  days  flow  onward  like  a  broad  and  tran 
quil  river,  fertilizing  some  fair  plain,  rich  with  the 
hopes  of  thousands — beautiful,  but  with  an  inde 
scribable  and  unromantic  beauty — presenting  none 
of  those  wild  charms,  those  scenes  at  once  sub 
lime  and  lovely  to  the  eye,  which  mark  the  course 
of  far-famed  torrents  amid  the  savage  glens  of 
moorland,  moss,  and  mountain — but  leaving  on  the 


CROMWELL.  59 

mind  a  mingled  sentiment  of  gratitude  and  bliss 
that  will  be  fresh  and  vivid  when  the  sterner  mem 
ory  of  its  rivals  shall  have  yielded  to  oblivion.  His 
spirit  had  looked  forward  to  a  long  perspective  of 
sunshiny  years — years  not  to  be  degraded  by  the 
selfish  sloth  of  luxury ;  not  to  be  wasted  in  the 
mere  sports  of  the  field,  which,  useful,  ay,  and  en 
nobling  in  their  tendencies,  when  partaken  but  as 
a  relief  to  grave  and  solid  duties,  so  surely  brutal 
ize  if  they  be  exalted  to  a  daily  occupation  ;  not  to 
be  dreamed  away  in  apathetic  musings  and  would- 
be  philosophy;  but  to  be  dignified  by  high  and 
patriotic  labours — by  the  cultivation  of  the  sciences 
and  arts — by  the  promotion  of  public  virtue  and 
domestic  worth — to  be  enlivened  by  the  gay  com 
munion  of  the  noble  and  the  good — to  be  softened 
by  the  sweet  charities,  the  endearing  ties,  the  holy 
sympathies  that  clasp  within  their  pale  the  mem 
bers  of  a  happy  family — and  to  be  closed  at  length 
by  a  calm  death-bed  amid  weeping  friends,  and  by 
a  grave  beneath  the  elms  of  the  ancestral  church 
yard,  still  to  be  decked  with  flowers,  and  pointed 
out  to  far  posterity  as  the  long  home  of  one  whose 
life  had  been  a  course,  to  which  death  had  but 
brought  the  consummation,  of  unbending  honour. 
Such,  when  the  chalky  cliffs  loomed  white  and 
lofty,  such  were  the  fond  anticipations,  the  imagi 
nations,  never  perhaps  to  be  realized,  which  pour 
ed  their  gilded  halo  round  his  heart ;  and  when  he 
felt  his  foot  once  more  securely  planted  on  the  pa 
rent  soil,  when  all  those  gushing  influences  of  min 
gled  ecstasy  and  tenderness  swept  in  an  over 
whelming  torrent  over  his  evejy  sense,  he  deemed 
that  all  his  hopes  were  on  the  point  of  being  grat 
ified — that  he  was  indeed  about  to  be  the  happiest 
of  men.  The  rumours  of  evil  seemed  to  fade 
away ;  the  menaces  of  political  discord,  perchance 


60  CROMWELL. 

even  of  civil  strife,  to  mutter  only  at  a  distance,  if 
not  unheard,  at  least  unworthy  to  create  solicitude ; 
the  fears  that  would  at  times  arise  unbidden,  cloud 
ing  with  darker  shades  the  bright  hues  of  his  men 
tal  painting,  were  all  forgotten ;  and  when  he  arri 
ved,  as  he  had  done  that  evening,  at  the  dear  home 
of  his  boyhood ;  when  he  perceived  the  mighty 
pleasure  that  lightened  forth  from  every  feature  of 
his  admiring  father;  when  he  found  himself  rev 
elling  in  the  manifest  affections  of  his  destined 
bride,  and  knew  that  she  partook  of  the  same  rap 
ture,  and  in  no  less  degree,  he  for  a  while  abandon 
ed  his  whole  soul  to  the  tide  of  feeling ;  he  suffer 
ed  himself  to  be  carried  away  by  his  enjoyment 
of  the  present,  careless  and  fearless  of  the  future ; 
he  felt,  perhaps  for  the  first  time  of  his  life,  during 
those  brief  hours  that  elastic  buoyancy  of  temper 
which  seems  to  tread  the  earth  with  winged  steps, 
about  to  soar  aloft,  insensible  to  aught  that  may 
depress,  reckless  of  all  that  may  oppose — that  rapt 
intoxication  of  the  spirit,  which  is  succeeded  so  in 
variably  by  the  contrary  extreme  of  listless,  sad 
despondency,  that,  in  the  northern  parts  of  Britain, 
it  has  given  rise  to  a  pervading  superstition,  to  an 
undoubting  creed,  that  such  is  the  forerunner  and 
the  omen,  not  of  a  causeless  gloom,  but  of  a  com 
ing  evil.  However  this  may  be,  it  nevertheless  is 
certain,  that  scarcely  had  he  retired  from  that  deli 
cious  intercourse  to  the  seclusion  of  his  own  apart 
ment,  ere  the  exhilaration,  which  had  almost  sur 
prised  himself  while  he  indulged  it,  gave  place, 
first,  to  an  uncertain  sense  of  restlessness — then  to 
a  consciousness  of  some  impending  evil,  increasing 
in  distinctness  moment  after  moment,  till  it  assu 
med  at  length  the  shape  of  an  anxiety,  if  not  a  fear, 
positive,  well-defined,  and,  alas !  but  too  well 
grounded.  Nothing,  indeed,  but  the  whirl  of  min- 


CROMWELL.  61 

J..i.   --.  i  -    / 

gled  sensations,  leaving  room  for  naught  of  serious 
meditation,  could  have,  even  thus  far,  blinded  Ar- 
denne  to  the  difficulties  and  the  dangers  of  his  fu 
ture  course.  The  boasted  loyalty  of  his  forefa 
thers — their  fond  devotion,  stronger  almost  than 
life,  to  the  king,  not  as  a  person,  but  as  a  portion, 
and  that  the  most  important,  of  the  state — their 
orthodox  and  sturdy  zeal,  condemning  all  as  secta 
ries  and  fanatics  who  differed  in  the  least  from  the 
established  canons  of  the  church — their  prejudiced 
affection  for  all  that  was  antique,  even  for  antique 
error ! — their  holding  up  all  those  who  would  im 
prove  or  alter,  with  the  most  diffident  and  sparing 
hand,  as  innovators  on  the  good  old  times,  as  lev 
ellers  of  rank  and  order,  as  iconoclasts  of  the  holy 
constitution,  as  traitors  to  their  monarch,  to  their 
country,  to  their  God !  All  these,  he  could  not 
but  remember,  had  been  the  principles  impressed 
upon  his  dawning  intellect  as  the  very  elixir  of  po 
litical  wisdom — as  the  examples  which  must  point 
the  steps  of  every  Ardenne — as  the  dogmata  for 
the  maintenance  of  which  he  must,  if  ever  called 
upon  to  do  so,  rejoicingly  expend  his  fortune  and 
his  blood !  All  these,  he  could  not  but  foresee, 
must  still,  according  to  all  human  calculation,  be 
the  favourite  maxims  of  his  father,  who — as  he  felt 
in  contradiction  of  those  hopes,  which,  even  in 
spite  of  hope,  he  knew  unfounded — would  be  too 
like  to  deem  the  slightest  deviation  from  the  foot 
steps  of  his  idols  as  the  worst  apostacy  ! — the  most 
respectful  opposition  to  the  arbitrary  will  of  the 
misguided  sovereign  as  flat  rebellion ! — the  most 
moderate  interference  in  behalf  of  liberal  views 
and  privileges  of  the  people  as  a  banding  against 
the  legitimate  aristocracy  of  the  land  with  all  that 
was  low,  and  sordid,  and  degraded  ! — too  like,  in 
short,  to  deem  the  part  which  Edgar  felt  already  to 
VOL.  I.— F 


62  CROMWELL. 

be  the  only  one  he  could  in  honour  or  in  honesty 
espouse,  a  base  abandonment  of  his  natural  posi 
tion — a  shameful  dereliction  from  the  principles 
and  virtues  of  his  race — a  crime  not  to  be  atoned 
for,  even  by  exclusion  from  his  heart  and  expulsion 
from  the  home  of  his  fathers !  And  had  he  been 
able  even  heretofore  and  at  a  distance  to  close  his 
eyes  against  this  fatal  certainty,  he  must  indeed 
have  been  both  blind  and  deaf  of  heart  had  he  not 
marked  the  words  of  blasting  sarcasm,  of  fierce 
and  fiery  hatred,  which  flashed  forth  as  oft  as  any 
casual  mention  intervened  of  those  who  had  stood 
forth  to  check  the  headlong  declination  of  the  Eng 
lish  Church  toward  dreaded  popery,  or  the  more 
rapid  increase  of  prerogative  toward  absolute  and 
autocratic  sway.  But  they  had  not  escaped  him. 
Although  unnoted,  or  at  least  unremarked,  amid  the 
free  and  flowing  conversation  of  that  first  evening, 
and  unable  for  the  time  to  dash  his  most  unusual 
exuberance  of  animal  spirits,  they  had  sunk  deep 
into  his  heart; — and  now  they  rose  in  long  array 
against  him,  ghastly  and  gloomy  shapes,  reproach 
ing  him  with  his  unnatural  and  foolish  joy,  and 
pointing  to  an  endless  course  of  tribulation  and  of 
sorrow.  Nor  was  this  all ! — though  this  had  been 
enough  to  overshadow  a  temperament  more  san- 
guinely  inclined  than  that  of  Edgar  Ardenne,  de 
termined  as  he  was  to  follow  that  which  he  himself 
should  deem  the  wise,  the  upright,  and  the  honoura 
ble  way  of  action,  though  such  should  be  avenged 
by  the  prostration  of  all  his  fancy's  idols — by  the 
ruin  of  his  fortunes — by  the  blighting  of  his  nearest 
and  dearest  aspirations — and,  more  intolerable  far 
than  all  beside,  by  the  forfeiture  of  that  high  opin 
ion  which  his  merit  had  induced,  and  the  frustration 
of  that  just  expectance  which  his  promise  had  ex 
cited  in  the  bosoms  of  his  friends  and  kinsmen. 


CROMWELL.  63 

Nor  was  this  all !  For,  as  he  pondered  now  in 
the  lone  stillness  of  the  night,  as  he  reviewed  with 
a  dispassionate,  keen-sighted  judgment  the  occur 
rences  of  the  past  day — as  he  recurred  to  every 
word  that  had  fallen  from  the  lips  to  which  he 
looked  for  love,  and  life,  and  every  thing — to  every 
expression  which  had  wreathed  in  smiles,  or 
clouded  with  disapprobation,  the  soul-fraught  linea 
ments  of  Sibyl — he  could  not  bless  himself  with 
the  conviction,  scarce  even  with  the  hope,  that  she 
was  not,  although  in  a  less  stern  degree,  a  hold 
er  of  the  same  ancestral  prejudices — a  worshipper 
of  the  same  creed,  hallowed  as  it  was  by  much 
that  naturally  would  call  forth  the  sympathies  of  a 
mind  imbued  with  all  the  poetry  of  feudal  recol 
lections,  not  as  yet  faded  from  the  earth — by  the 
high  chivalrous  devotion — the  noble  and  unselfish 
confidence- — the  enthusiastic  valour — the  unsullied 
memory  and  cloudless  glory,  of  the  days  when 
kings  were  loved  as  second  only  to  the  gods — 
when  loyalty  was  regarded  as  a  virtue  among 
men,  in  the  same  rank  with  piety  toward  Heaven. 
Whither  then — whither  had  fallen  his  exulting  fan 
cies — whither  had  flown  his  visionary  prospects 
of  a  useful  and  a  happy  life,  of  an  honoured  and 
regretted  end — if  the  paths  of  happiness  and  honour 
were  destined  to  run  diverse  ?  If — his  heart  burn 
ing  with  the  pure  and  hallowed  flame  of  liberty, 
his  head  clearly  appreciating  the  miserable  and 
abhorred  aims  of  the  rash  man  who  wore  the 
crown  of  England,  his  whole  soul  glowing  with 
patriotic  ardour — he  must  either  prostitute  his  ener 
gies  to  make  what  to  him  seemed  the  worse  ap 
pear  the  better  cause — must  either  lift  his  voice 
to  justify  and  to  defend  time-honoured  wrong  and 
new-devised  oppression — must  either  edge  the 
weapon  of  the  despot  with  all  the  powers  of  his 


64  CROMWELL. 

arm — or,  following  the  dictates  of  his  own  con 
science,  ranking  himself  among  the  vindicators  of 
the  constitution  to  its  early  purity,  among  the  as- 
sertors  of  a  legitimate  and  tempered  freedom — as 
far  removed  from  the  wild  anarchy  and  license  of 
falsely  styled  republics,  as  from  the  forced  obedi 
ence  and  intolerant  rule  of  arbitrary  governors — 
must  be  content  to  sacrifice  all  that  his  heart  held 
worthy  its  acceptance !  if,  in  short,  he  must  act  a 
part  dishonest  and  unworthy,  so  to  gain  those  or 
dinary  means  of  happiness,  to  which  none  so  lowly 
but  they  do  aspire  ;  or  must  surrender  every  hope, 
nay,  every  possibility  of  earthly  bliss,  at  the  inflex 
ible  commands  of  duty  and  of  honour  ?  These 
were  the  dark  reflections  into  which  the  mind  of 
Ardenne  had  relapsed,  as  he  stood  alone,  gazing 
from  the  lattice  of  his  chamber  into  the  bosom  of 
the  night,  profiting  by,  if  not  enjoying,  the  first 
moments  of  calm  solitude,  the  first  opportunity  for 
quiet  and  heart-searching  meditation,  that  had  fal 
len  to  his  lot  since  he  had  been  numbered  once 
again  among  the  dwellers  beneath  the  oaken 
shades  of  his  paternal  Woodleigh.  Nor,  as  the 
hours  of  night  passed,  not  unheralded  by  musical 
chimes  from  the  old  belfry,  and  the  moonlight 
waned  in  the  peaceful  sky,  did  his  wild  thoughts 
and  sad  forebodings  give  way  to  aught  of  weari 
ness  ;  the  more  he  pondered,  and  the  less  able  did 
he  seem  to  find  the  slightest  clew  to  guide  his 
footsteps  through  the  gloomy  labyrinth  of  the 
future — the  longer  he  sat  gazing  on  the  pallid 
stars,  and  the  less  he  felt  disposed  for  slumber — 
till  at  length,  the  spirit  moving,  as  it  were,  too 
rapidly,  and  the  blood  coursing  through  his  veins 
too  fiercely  to  permit  the  body  to  remain  inactive, 
he  arose,  scarce  conscious  that  he  did  so,  and 
paced  the  oaken  floor,  backward  and  forth,  with 


CROMWELL.  65 

swift  irregular  steps,  the  livelong  night.  Grad 
ually  the  coming  of  the  early  twilight  dappled  the 
darkness  of  the  eastern  sky;  a  bird  or  two,  of 
those  which  had  securely  roosted  under  the  ivy- 
curtained  eaves,  awaking  with  a  lively  chirp,  gave 
notice  of  the  dawn ;  and  anon  the  calm  and  colour 
less  light  of  an  autumnal  morning  crept  into  Ar- 
denne's  chamber,  dispelling  from  its  every  nook 
the  massy  shadows  which  had[  nestled,  like  unholy 
spirits,  in  those  deep  recesses,  beneath  the  partial 
influence  of  the  moon.  But  all  unnoted  by  its 
occupant  had  those  successive  changes  circled  the 
firmament ;  and  when  the  sound  of  voices  and  of 
footsteps,  passing  to  and  fro  the  corridors,  announ 
ced  the  return  of  those  bright  hours  allotted  to  so 
much  of  human  toil  and  sorrow,  he  absolutely 
started  in  surprise,  and  almost  doubted  whether  it 
could  indeed  be  morning,  that  had  stolen  on  his 
waking  dreams,  and  found  him  still  a  watcher. 
With  something  like  a  smile  at  his  own  thought 
ful  carelessness,  he  turned  to  change  and  alter  his 
discomposed  attire ;  and  as  he  dashed  the  pure  cold 
water  over  his  throbbing  temples,  and  bathed  his 
feverish  hands,  he  perceived  that  its  refreshing 
coolness  pervaded  not  his  body  only,  but  calmed 
and  soothed  his  mind  ;  and  when  the  merry  bell 
summoned  its  hearers  to  that  most  unrestrained 
and  sociable  of  meetings,  the  morning  meal,  he 
descended  the  old  staircase,  gazing  on  its  walls, 
decked  with  time-honoured  banners,  and  glittering 
with  starry  groups  of  weapons — and  on  its  landing- 
places  guarded  by  complete  panoplies  of  steel, 
standing  erect  with  advanced  arms  and  lowered 
visors,  as  if  still  tenanted  by  the  strong  frames 
that  had  supported  them  of  yore  amid  the  din  of 
battle,  if  not  with  a  heart  at  ease,  at  least  with  a 
countenance  that  bore  no  traces  of  the  conflict  still 
F2 


66  CROMWELL. 

at  work  within.  On  entering  the  summer  parlour, 
as  such  rooms  were  termed  in  the  quaint  language 
of  the  time,  wherein  meet  preparations  for  a  break 
fast,  far  more  solid  than  are  used  in  these  degen 
erate  days,  had  been  already  made,  he  found  his 
destined  bride  alone,  in  a  projecting  oriel  window, 
seated  on  the  broad-cushioned  ottoman  which  cir 
cled  the  recess,  with  a  light  frame  before  her,  filled 
with  a  gorgeous  Indian  silk,  on  which  her  art  had 
traced  some  fair  embroideries,  yet  incomplete — 
but,  though  the  many-coloured  skeins  assorted 
within  reach,  and  the  well-filled  needle  between 
her  taper-fingers,  showed  that  she  had  commenced 
her  feminine  and  graceful  occupation,  the  thought 
ful  attitude  of  her  head,  languidly  propped  on  her 
left  hand,  while  the  right  lay  motionless  on  the 
rich  texture,  belied  her  fancied  industry.  So 
noiselessly  had  Edgar's  step  fallen  on  the  soft 
Turkey  carpet  that  she  had  not  perceived  his  en 
trance  ;  and  so  beautiful  was  the  picture  of  still  life 
which  she  afforded  to  her  lover's  gaze,  that  he  lin 
gered  for  a  moment  ere  his  voice  should  rouse  her 
into  animation.  A  flood  of  morning  lustre  stream 
ed  downward  with  a  golden  hue,  caught  from  the 
teinted  panes,  upon  her  glossy  hair  and  pure  com 
plexion,  circling  her  entire  form  with  a  halo  of 
rich  light,  not  unlike  that  with  which  the  painters 
of  the  Romish  school  are  wont  to  dignify  their 
female  saints  and  martyrs.  The  outlines  of  her 
beautiful  shape  were  mellowed,  as  it  were,  and 
shrouded  partially  by  the  hazy  beams  of  sunshine 
which  fell  in  oblique  lines  between  her  person — 
simply  arrayed  in  a  close  bodice,  accurately  fitted 
to  her  fine  bust,  and  a  full  robe  of  white — and  the 
observer's  eye.  Her  luxuriant  tresses  folded  plain 
ly  about  the  contour  of  her  small  and  classic  head, 
without  ornament  or  gem  of  any  kind,  and  the  ex- 


CROMWELL.  67 

ceeding  repose,  if  it  might  not  be  termed  melan 
choly,  of  her  sweet  features,  giving,  together  with 
the  accidents  of  light  and  shade,  a  madona-like 
and  sainted  aspect  to  her  figure,  which  would 
have  enchained  an  artist  with  no  less  of  fascina 
tion  than  it  exercised,  from  different  reasons,  over 
the  mind  of  Ardenne.  As  he  approached,  her 
delicate  ear  detected  him ;  she  turned  her  head, 
and  springing  to  her  feet, — "  Dear  Edgar,"  she  ex 
claimed,  her  eye  discovering  with  instinctive  quick 
ness  the  trace  of  melancholy  left  upon  his  linea 
ments,  however  faintly,  by  his  nightly  musings ; 
"  Dear  Edgar — you  are  ill  at  ease — nay,  smile  not 
— 'tis  a  ghastly  smile,  not  of  your  own  expression ! 
— you  are  ill  at  ease — have  passed  a  sleepless 
night — " 

"  Sweet  Sibyl,"  he  replied,  with  a  wan  smile,  and 
gently  pressing  her  extended  hand,  "you  are  in 
deed  a  keen  observer ;  too  keen,  believe  me  ! — 
How  should  I  be  but  well  and  happy,  surrounded 
thus  by  all  I  love  most  tenderly  ?" 

"How  indeed,  Edgar?"  she  answered,  even 
more  sadly  than  before.  "  How  indeed — if  you 
do  love  so  tenderly  ? — But  ill  at  ease  you  are,  and 
have  been  sleepless  !  All  night  long  have  I  heard 
your  heavy  strides  upon  the  chamber  floor,  and 
those  not  regular  and  measured  as  your  wont,  but 
fitful  and  uncertain.  So  do  not  pass  the  happy 
their  first  night  beneath  the  roof  that  saw  their 
birth." 

"  If  I  do  love,  Sibyl, — if!"  he  exclaimed,  with 
deep,  almost  reproachful  energy;  "but,  in  good 
truth,  I  am  a  poor  dissembler,  and  could  scarcely 
feign,  were  it  to  win  even  thy  heart,  Sibyl — and, 
for  it  seems  I  must  confess  me,  I  am  somewhat, 
though  slightly,  ill  at  ease — " 

"I  knew — I  knew  it  at  a  glance,"  she  inter- 


68  CROMWELL. 

rupted  him ;  "  and  wherefore  then  conceal  it  ? — 
Good  Dr.  Masters,  though  somewhat  past  his 
prime,  still  ministers,  and  skilfully,  to  his  familiar 
patients — an  hour  will  have  him  here — "  and  she 
moved  hastily  toward  a  silver  hand-bell,  which 
stood,  with  books,  and  drawings,  and  a  lady's  lute, 
upon  a  fairy-looking  cabinet  of  tortoise-shell  and 
marquetry. 

"  Nay !  nay !"  he  cried,  gently  arresting  her, 
"  I  meant  not  so  ! — Be  not  alarmed,  dear  Sibyl, — 
mine  is  a  robust  frame,  not  oft  or  easily  affected 
by  aught  of  feebleness  or  ailment.  My  mind  hath 
been  of  late  somewhat  overwrought — but  a  few 
days,  consumed  in  the  enjoyment  of  home-happi 
ness  and  the  delights  of  your  society,  shall  speedily 
restore  me.  Look  not  so  grave — so  sad — 1  do  be 
seech  you." 

"  Oh,  Edgar,"  she  interrupted  him  again,  "  tell 
me,  if  you  do  love  me,  tell  me  all !  long  years  have 
we  been  parted — parted,  as  I  have  hoped — as,  from 
your  kind  and  fervent  letters,  I  have  well  believed 
— in  body,  not  in  soul !  and  is  it  now — oh,  is  it  to 
be  thus  ?  Are  we  to  be  but  more  divided  when 
we  are  more  together?  Have  we  but  met  to  be 
more  widely  and  more  coldly  severed !  Oh  !  if 
you  love  me,  let  me  know  your  griefs  !  Who  be 
fore  me  should  know  ? — or  who,  as  I,  would  share 
them?" 

"  All — all,"  he  answered,  in  the  hollow  voice  of 
one  who  struggles  vainly  with  his  feelings,  forcing 
a  smile  as  faint  as  a  December's  sunbeam, — "  you 
shall  share  all — grief — happiness — life— death — 
eternity ! — All,  all,  sweet  Sibyl,  if  that  indeed  you 
be  so  minded !  From  you  I  have  had — I  will 
have  no  secrets— but  now,  I  do  assure  you,  I  am 
not  in  grief — how  should  I  ?  Something  of  gloomy 
thought  may  have  come  over  me — something  of 


CROMWELL.  69 

moody  sadness — causeless  and  senseless — such  as 
will  float  at  times  across  the  brains  of  all  who 
think — as  I  do — deeply.  But  no,  Sibyl,  no;  I 
am  not  unhappy !  Not  for  the  proudest  station 
upon  earth  would  I  exchange  this  fond  proximity  to 
thee — not  for  the  universal  blast  of  the  world's  ap 
probation  would  I  barter  that  bright  tear — shed  for 
me,  Sibyl — or  that  yet  brighter  smile  that  chases 
it.  Cheer  up,  my  own  own  love ;  we  will  talk 
more  of  this  anon — for  lo  !  there  comes  my  father  !" 

And  as  he  spoke,  attired  in  hunter's  garb  of 
green,  booted  to  the  mid-thigh,  with  bugle-horn 
and  wood-knife  usurping  the  place  of  rapier  and 
of  poniard,  and  with  two  gallant  stag-hounds  at  his 
heel,  the  noble  veteran  entered. 

"  Alert — alert !"  he  cried,  with  a  gay  smile ; 
"  you  of  young  blood  !  Methought  I  was  myself 
full  early  stirring,  but  here  are  ye,  in  rising  as  in 
all  else,  beforehand  with  me.  What  ho  !  ye  loiter 
ing  knaves — hurry  our  breakfast!  'Tis  a  rare 
morning,  Edgar — a  soft  mild  wind,  a  heavy  dew 
last  eventide,  and  the  clouds  gently  rising.  Old 
Stavely  tells  me  he  has  harboured  a  right  hart  of 
grease — a  stag  of  ten  ! — and  I  have  sent  out  riders 
these  four  hours  agone  to  rouse  the  country.  The 
Outrams  will  be  here  anon — you  mind  the  Out- 
rams,  boy,  your  college  mates  of  yore,  and  now 
right  noble  gallants — and  Atherstone,  of  Ashstead 
Hall — and  old  Lord  Middleton,  with  his  brave  sons  ! 
Friends  all — true  friends,  though  some  of  them,  I 
doubt,  forgotten !  But,  'fore  George,  we  will  make 
a  day  of  it !" 

Thus  the  old  man  ran  on,  overlooking  in  his 
light-hearted  cheerfulness  the  evident  abstraction 
of  his  listeners,  although  they  rallied  up  enough  of 
animation  to  maintain  some  sort  of  conversation 
during  their  hasty  meal,  which  scarce  was  ended, 


70  CROMWELL. 

ere  Sir  Henry  started  from  his  seat.  "  See  !  see  !" 
he  cried,  as  a  fair  cavalcade  swept  past  the  win 
dows,  their  plumes  waving  in  the  light  west  wind, 
spurs  jingling,  and  steeds  curvetting — "  see  !  they 
be  here,  even  now ;  and  lo  !  the  pack  !"  As — with 
their  attendant  huntsmen  and  half  a  score  of  prick 
ers,  splendidly  mounted  on  blood  horses,  in  forest 
jerkins  sumptuously  laced,  round  caps,  and  huge 
French  horns  encircling  their  shoulders — restrained 
by  many  an  echoing  shout  and  many  a  clanging 
lash,  some  twenty  couple  of  tall  northern  blood 
hounds  came  trotting  slowly  up  the  lawn,  in  all 
that  accuracy  of  condition  and  perfection  of  detail 
which  has,  in  every  period  of  her  history,  been  so 
distinctive  of  the  field-sports  of  England  ! 

"  Fly,  Sibyl — fly,  my  fairy,"  cried  the  impatient 
veteran.  "  Do  on  your  riding  gear  right  speedily. 
Ariel  is  champing  on  his  bits  even  now  to  summon 
you !  Edgar  and  I  meanwhile  will  look  to  our 
guests  in  the  great  hall.  Dally  not,  girl,  I  pray 
you — the  sun  is  shrouded  even  now,  and  the  scent 
will  lie  most  bravely.  I  would  not,  to  be  Prince 
of  Wales,  lose  such  a  morning !  What  ho  !  my 
jovial  roisters,"  he  continued  in  a  louder  tone, 
striding  into  the  huge  vaulted  hall  through  one 
door,  as  his  fair  niece  vanished  at  the  other. — 
"  What  ho !  my  jovial  roisters,"  addressing  the 
laughing  group  who  waited  his  arrival.  "  Here 
have  ye  an  old  friend,  whom  some  of  ye  perchance 
have  not  as  yet  forgotten."  And  with  a  prouder 
air  and  more  exulting  smile,  he  introduced  his  gal 
lant  son,  unseen  for  many  a  year,  to  his  admiring 
friends.  A  short  half  hour  flitted  pleasantly  away 
in  heartfelt  greetings  and  gay  converse  of  light 
moment,  but  lively,  joyous,  and  sincere.  Then 
every  high-plumed  hat  was  doffed,  and  every 
voice  was  lowered,  as  Sibyl  Ardenne,  with  her  at- 


CROMWELL.  71 

tendant  maidens,  meetly  equipped  for  the  field,  en 
tered  the  hall !  "  To  horse  !  to  horse  !"  and  the 
ladies  were  assisted  to  their  velvet  selles  by  fa 
voured  cavaliers,  and  the  gallants  vaulted  to  their 
saddles,  and  threw  their  chargers  on  their  haunch 
es  by  dint  of  curb  and  spur,  and  drew  their  forms  to 
the  most  graceful  attitude,  as  with  courtly  merri 
ment  and  sylvan  music  they  swept  away  through 
shadowy  avenues  and  over  shaven  lawns,  to  the 
wilder  coppices  and  more  secluded  glades  of  chase 
and  forest. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  The  chase  is  o'er.    Go  couple  up  the  pack, 
And  let  your  lusty  horn  ring  holyday 
To  the  swinked  foresters.     We'll  hunt  no  more, 
Since  duty  calls  of  gravest  import  stern, 
And  deep  election — of  high  causes  twain 
Which  is  the  better !" 

THE  hunt  was  at  its  height !  The  noble  stag — 
which  had  been  harboured  on  the  previous  night  in 
a  deep  swampy  thicket,  situate  at  the  extreme 
western  verge  of  the  chase,  and  adjoining  a  wild 
tract  of  semi-cultivated  moorland — disdaining  to 
seek  refuge  in  the  recesses  of  the  devious  wood 
land,  had  broken  covert  gallantly,  as  the  first  crash 
of  deep-mouthed  music  burst  from  his  stanch  pur- 
sue^s ;  and  clearing  by  a  gigantic  effort  the  rough 
park-palings,  had  taken  to  the  open  country,  cross 
ing  hill  and  dale  in  a  line  scarce  less  direct  than 
the  crow's  flight,  and  at  a  pace  that,  ere  an  hour 
had  passed,  reduced  the  number  of  those  who  fol 
lowed  the  now  mute  and  panting  hounds  from  a 


72  CROMWELL. 

score  or  two  of  fearless  horsemen  to  a  scant  half- 
dozen  of  the  boldest  and  best-mounted  riders.  The 
ladies  of  the  party  had  long  since  been  thrown  out, 
scarcely  indeed  having  cantered  a  half  mile  along 
the  nearest  road,  after  the  hounds  had  left  the  con 
fines  of  the  park ;  but  still  the  foremost  of  the  field, 
with  all  the  hair-brained  courage  of  a  boy,  and  all 
the  deep  sagacious  foresight  of  a  veteran  sports 
man,  rode  old  Sir  Henry  Ardenne ;  his  manly  fea 
tures  flushed  with  the  excitement  of  his  healthful 
exercise,  and  his  gray  hair  floating  in  the  current 
of  air  created  by  his  own  swift  motion,  as,  cap  in 
hand,  he  cheered  the  laggards  of  the  pack  with  a 
voice  that  had  lost  nothing  of  its  full-toned  round 
ness.  At  length,  in  a  sequestered  dell,  clothed  on 
each  hand  with  a  dense  growth  of  underwood 
feathering  its  rocky  and  precipitous  declivities, 
down  which  a  sandy  road  wound  in  short  toilsome 
curves,  and  watered  by  a  bright  and  brawling  rivu 
let,  hard  pressed  and  weary,  the  brave  quarry  turned 
to  bay.  The  deep  note  of  the  leading  hound 
changed  to  a  shrill  and  savage  treble  as  he  viewed 
his  prey,  and  at  the  same  instant  the  loud  death- 
halloo  rang  from  the  exulting  lips  of  the  old  baron 
et  as  he  caught  and  comprehended  the  import  of 
that  sharp  yell.  Another  minute  brought  him  to 
the  brink  of  a  wide  pool,  embayed  between  rough 
cliffs  of  sandstone,  and  overlooked  by  a  gnarled  and 
leafless  oak,  on  the  highest  branch  of  which  a 
solitary  raven  sat,  unmoved  by  the  fierce  clamour, 
and  expecting,  with  a  sullen  croak,  its  share  of  the 
after-carnage.  In  the  farther  corner  of  this  basin, 
clear  as  the  virgin  crystal  in  its  ordinary  state,  but 
turbid  now  and  lashed  to  foam  by  the  wild  conflict 
of  the  animals,  the  stag  had  turned  on  his  pursuers 
— nor  had  he  turned  in  vain ;  for  one,  a  brindled 
bloodhound,  the  boldest  of  the  pack,  unseamed 


CROMWELL.  73 

from  shoulder-blade  to  brisket  by  a  thrust  ot  the 
terrible  brow-antler,  lay  underneath  his  stamping 
hoofs  a  lifeless  carcass ;  while  others  bayed  at  a 
distance,  reluctant,  as  it  seemed,  again  to  rush 
upon  an  enemy  who  had  already  left  such  painful 
evidences  of  his  strength  and  valour  on  their  gored 
and  trampled  limbs.  Nor,  though  his  velvet  coat 
was  clogged  and  blackened  with  the  dust  and 
sweat,  and  though  the  big  tears — tokens  of  anguish 
in  its  expression  wellnigh  human — rolled  down 
his  hairy  cheeks,  did  he  exhibit  aught  of  craven 
terror  at  the  approach  of  his  inveterate  pursuers ; 
but,  as  the  veteran  advanced  upon  him,  with  the 
glittering  wood-knife  bared  and  ready,  leaving  the 
dogs,  as  if  beneath  his  notice,  he  dashed  with  a 
bold  spring  against  his  human  persecutor,  eye, 
hoof,  and  horn,  in  perfect  concert  of  quick  move 
ment.  The  slightest  tremour  in  the  huntsman's 
nerves,  the  most  trifling  slip  or  stumble,  might 
have  well  proved  fatal ;  but,  although  seventy  win 
ters  had  shed  their  snows  upon  his  head,  his  mus 
cles  had  been  indurated  so  by  constant  exercise  in 
his  beloved  field-sports,  that  many  a  younger  arm 
had  failed  in  rivalling  their  powerful  though  une- 
lastic  firmness.  When  the  despairing  deer  made 
his  last  effort,  eluding  by  a  rapid  turn  his  formida 
ble  front,  Sir  Henry  struck  a  full  blow  as  he  passed, 
completely  severing  the  tendons  of  the  hinder  leg — 
hamstrung  and  crippled,  the  gallant  brute  plunged 
headlong  forward,  and  received  in  the  next  instant 
the  keen  point  in  his  gullet — one  short  gurgling 
bleat,  and  two  or  three  convulsive  struggles  of  the 
agile  limbs — the  full  eye  glazed,  and  in  a  moment 
all  the  fiery  energy,  the  bounding  life,  that  had  so 
lately  animated  that  beautiful  form,  was  utterly  ex 
tinct  for  ever.  Then  came  the  thundering  shouts, 
and  the  long  cadences  of  the  French  horns,  their 
VOL.  I.— G 


74  •  CROMWELL. 

joyous  notes  multiplied  by  the  ringing  echoes,  and 
sent  back  from  every  heath-clad  knoll  or  craggy- 
eminence, — the  merry  narrative  of  harmless  acci 
dents, — the  self-congratulations  of  the  select  and 
lucky  few,  who,  from  the  start  to  the  death,  had 
kept  the  hounds  in  view, — the  queries  for  the  ab 
sent, — the  praises  of  some  favourite  horse  or  daring 
rider, — the  stingless  raillery, — the  honest  unfeigned 
laughter ! 

"  Who  hath  seen  Ardenne  ?  What  chance  hath 
hindered  Edgar?"  suddenly  inquired  one  of  the 
younger  of  the  party. 

"  Edgar  not  here  !"  exclaimed  his  father,  for  the 
first  time  discovering  his  absence ;  "  Edgar  not 
here !  Tore  George !  but  he  must  bide  the  jest 
for  this !" 

"  'Tis  strange,  Sir  Henry  —  passing  strange, 
though  !"  interposed  an  old  gray-headed  forester. 
"  None  here  can  match  the  master's  horsemanship ; 
and  that  brown  mare  hath  the  pace  in  her,  and  the 
bottom  too.  Pray  Heaven  he  be  not  hurt." 

"  I  fear  he  may — I  fear  he  may  be  hurt,"  ex 
claimed  another.  "  He  was  beside  me  just  before 
we  crossed  the  northern  road.  I  marked  him 
charge  the  Hartley  burn  right  gallantly,  and  no 
ticed  the  mare's  stride — nigh  thirty  feet,  I  warrant 
it." 

In  a  moment  or  two  the  wonder  had  increased 
until  it  might  be  called  anxiety — excitement — the 
more  so,  as  at  intervals  the  laggards  of  the  chase 
came  straggling  in,  with  mud-stained  garb  and  ja 
ded  horses  ;  yet  none  brought  tidings  of  the  absent 
cavalier.  At  length,  sounding  their  horns  from 
time  to  time,  they  turned  their  horses'  heads  to 
ward  home,  asking  for  tidings  of  their  missing 
comrade  from  every  traveller  or  peasant  they  en 
countered.  Naught  did  they  learn,  however,  till 


CROMWELL.  75 

they  had  reached  the  park,  when  an  unlucky  groom, 
leading  his  lame  and  weary  hunter  by  the  rein,  in 
formed  them  that  the  young  master  had  been  ac 
costed,  as  he  crossed  the  great  north  road,  by  a 
passing  stranger  —  a  marvellously  sour-looking 
knave,  the  servant  said,  with  a  cropped  pate  and 
puritanic  garb ;  that  he  had  curbed  his  horse  to  lis 
ten  to  him,  and  on  the  receiving  of  some  packet  or 
despatches,  he  knew  not  whether,  had  ridden  slow 
ly  homeward  in  deep  converse  with  the  bearer. 

"  St.  George !  and  with  a  puritan !"  cried  one  of 
the  young  Outrams,  a  hair-brained,  light-hearted 
cavalier — "  a  rascally,  starved  roundhead  !" 

"  He  must  be  strangely  altered  then,  I  trow," 
muttered  the  aged  huntsman,  who  perhaps  had 
taught  him  when  a  boy  to  ride  so  well,  "  an'  he  be 
gone  home  with  a  musty  beggar — the  hounds  run 
ning  breast  high,  too,  o'er  the  vale  of  Bardsey  !" 

"  Tush !  tell  me  not ;  he  is  too  true  an  Ar- 
denne,"  cried  his  father,  almost  angrily,  "that  he 
should  e'er  consort  with  base  and  brutal  fanatics, 
Heaven's  curse  upon  them  !" 

It  was  true,  notwithstanding — the  report  of  the 
fallen  rider — to  its  most  minute  particular  of  cir 
cumstance  ;  for  as  he  leaped  the  fence  into  the 
road,  and  pulled  upon  his  rein  to  spare  his  horse's 
feet  on  the  rough  pavement,  a  strange-looking  man 
— gaunt,  grim,  and  tall,  with  an  affected  air  of 
sanctified  austerity  on  his  pinched  features,  wear 
ing  his  coarse  and  foxy  hair  shorn  close  to  the  skin, 
and  clipped  into  small  peaks  alike  unseemly  and  ri 
diculous,  with  a  tall  steeple-crowned  hat,  and  a  sad- 
coloured  doublet,  threadbare  and  travel-worn,  pre 
senting  altogether  an  appearance  as  dissimilar  as 
possible  to  that  of  a  gentleman — called  to  him  in 
a  pert  shrill  voice — 

"  Canst  tell  the  distance  hence  to  Woodleigh, 


76  CROMWELL. 

the  residence  of  Ardenne — him  men  call  Sir  Hen 
ry  ;  cumbering  their  tongues  with  vain  distinctions, 
titles  alike  unsavoury  and  profitless  ?" 

"  A  brief  three  miles,"  frankly  returned  the  cav 
alier.  "  But  you  may  spare  yourself  even  that 
short  distance,  an'  you  list.  There  rides  Sir  Hen 
ry — he  on  the  chestnut  horse  !  I  will  o'ertake  and 
stop  him,  an'  your  business  may  not  tarry  !" 

"  Nay,  friend,"  returned  the  other,  "  my  call  is 
not  with  the  old,  vain-minded,  carnal  cavalier,  but 
with  his  son — a  godly  youth,  men  say — honest  and 
sanctified  !  yea,  one  of  the  elect — " 

"  A  truce  to  thine  impertinence,  sir  knave  !"  Ed 
gar  replied,  in  a  quick  angry  tone ;  "a  truce  to 
thine  impertinence,  an'  thou  wouldst  not  receive  its 
wages  ;  nor  deem  thy  fulsome  flattery  toward  my 
self  shall  anywise  excuse  thy  ribald  scoffing  at 
my  father!  Begone,  sir;  tempt  me,  an'  you  be 
wise,  no  farther !"  and  he  had  already  touched  his 
mare  with  the  spur  in  order  to  regain  his  place  be 
side  the  hounds,  which  had  gained  on  him  some 
two  fields'  width  during  the  interruption,  when  the 
puritan  reined  his  hackney  short  across  the  path, 
crying  out  in  a  voice  somewhat  diminished  of  its 
self-importance,  "Nay!  no  offence!"  he  said;  "for 
if  thou  be'st  the  man,  'twere  worth  thy  while  to 
tarry.  I  am  the  bearer  of  a  letter !  yea,  of  two 
letters,  for  the  good  youth,  Edgar  Ardenne.  I  pray 
thee  to  relieve  me  of  the  charge." 

"  Begone,  sir  !  To  your  duty  !"  again  vocifera 
ted  Ardenne,  in  a  tone  yet  sterner  than  he  had 
used  before.  "  Begone  to  Woodleigh  and  await 
my  leisure.  When  I  return,  'twill  be,  I  warrant 
me,  right  soon  enough  to  look  to  these  despatches. 
I  know  not  who  should  write  to  me  by  such  a  low 
and  scurvy  comrade,  that  I  should  lose  my  sport 
to  minister  to  his  convenience  !" 


CROMWELL.  77 

"Well,  be  it  as  thou  wilt,"  muttered  the  puritan; 
"  but,  an'  John  Milton's — worshipful  John  Milton's 
letter  meet  with  no  better  treatment,  I  had  as  well 
wend  back  again  to  Huntingdon !" 

"  Milton !  ha  !"  answered  Ardenne,  who  had  al 
ready  moved  to  some  considerable  distance  before 
he  caught  the  name  ;  "  Milton  !  why  saidst  not  so 
before,  perverse  and  insolent  ?  Dally  with  me  no 
farther,  thou  wert  best,  but  give  at  once  thy  mis 
sives,  and  follow  me  direct  to  Woodleigh." 

Ere  he  had  finished  speaking  he  received  the 
packets — the  one  a  large  and  cumbrous  parcel, 
wrapped  in  a  skin  of  thick  discoloured  parchment, 
and  fastened  by  a  triple  band  of  flaxen  thread,  with 
a  huge  seal  stamped  with  armorial  bearings,  char 
ged  on  a  broad  municipal  escutcheon — the  other  a 
small  neatly-folded  letter  of  smooth  white  vellum, 
secured  by  a  skein  of  delicate  sleave  silk  and  drop 
of  wax  impressed  with  a  superb  antique — the  stern 
and  rigid  features  of  the  elder  Cato.  The  former 
was  addressed,  with  cramped  mercantile  penman 
ship,  to  "  Edgar,  son  of  the  worshipful  Sir  Henry 
Ardenne,  knight  banneret,  and  baronet  of  Wood 
leigh,  nigh  to  Buxton,  in  the  good  shire  of  Der 
by,  with  haste  and  diligence,  post  haste  !"  The 
latter  was  directed,  in  a  beautiful  but  bold  and 
manly  hand,  "  To  the  noble  youth  Edgar  Ar 
denne."  This  was  the  first  he  opened,  and  a 
pleasing  smile  played  over  his  fine  features  as  he 
perused  the  well-turned  periods  of  his  already  cel 
ebrated  friend. 

"  I  much  rejoice  to  hear," — thus  did  the  letter 
run — "most  excellent  and  esteemed  sir,  that  you 
have  now  accomplished,  with  no  hurt  or  detriment, 
your  long  looked-for  return  to  England ;  and,  what 
redounds  so  vastly  to  your  credit,  that  you  have 
come — weaning  your  thirsty  soul  from  those  deli- 
G2 


78  CROMWELL. 

cious  draughts  of  pure  Parnassian  waters  in  which 
you  have  so  bathed  of  late  your  fancy,  and  casting 
aside  your  delectation  in  those  Italian  cities  where 
in  you  have  so  profited  by  cultivating  high  pursuits 
of  literature  and  conversations  of  the  learned — to 
turn  the  complete  vis  and  vigour  of  your  intellect 
toward  the  miserable  strait  in  which  our  native  land 
lies  struggling, — 

'  Ut  clausus  Gyarae  scopulis  parvaque  Seripho,' 

a  strait  so  fearful,  that  she  wellnigh  has  lost,  not 
only  the  fruition,  present  and  temporal,  of  her  lib 
erties,  both  civil  and  religious,  but  the  very  hope 
of  their  redemption.  And  yet  more  earnestly  do 
I  rejoice  that  you  are  called  so  suddenly,  and  with 
so  honourable  circumstance,  to  take  your  place  in 
that  high  council  of  the  nation,  for  which  your 
genius  and  your  talents  so  excellently  do  befit  you. 
I  would  not  wish  you  in  so  much  to  ponder  on  the 
character  and  principles  of  them  that  have  united 
in  this  tribute  to  your  worth,  if  they  should  be  in 
aught — although  good  patriots  and  true — distaste 
ful  to  your  feelings ;  as  on  the  mighty  services  you 
well  may  be  an  instrument  to  render,  and  on  the 
duty  paramount  which  should  enforce  you  so  to 
render  them,  in  that  most  glorious  and  free  assem 
blage  on  which  hangs  every  hope  of  England. 
But,  with  respect  to  this,  without  attending  my  in 
junctions,  you  have  an  admirable  monitor,  a  very 
entire  and  pure  guide,  in  your  own  sense  of  right, 
which  to  obey  is  to  be  virtuous  and  wise,  and  in 
obeying  which  you  shall  at  once  fulfil  the  wishes 
of  your  oppressed  and  lamentable  country,  and  give 
the  highest  pleasure  to  your  well-wisher  and  friend 
constantly,  •  JOHN  MILTON, 

"  From  my  villa,  Aldwsgate,  Oct.  12,  1641." 

. 


CROMWELL.  79 

The  calm  deliberation  with  which  the  cavalier 
had  opened  and  applied  himself  to  read  the  famil 
iar  letter  of  his  trusty  fellow-traveller,  gave  way, 
long  ere  he  had  concluded,  to  manifest  and  restless 
eagerness  ;  and  if  he  read  it  through  before  he  tore 
asunder  the  fastenings  of  the  larger  packet,  it  was 
rather  that  he  hoped  within  itself  to  find  a  clew 
whereby  to  solve  its  mystery,  than  that  he  was  in 
different  to  learn  what  was  the  nature  of  the  call 
to  which  his  friend  alluded.  But  when  he  closed 
it,  still  in  ignorance  of  that  which  it  behooved  him 
most  to  know,  his  colour  went  and  came,  and  his 
heart  beat  quick  as  he  turned  hastily  to  the  sole 
remaining  source  of  information.  The  paper  that 
first  caught  his  eye  on  opening  the  packet  was  a 
fair  document,  in  large  clear  characters,  engrossed 
on  vellum,  and  purporting  to  be  an  invitation  from 
the  freeholders  of  the  good  town  of  Huntingdon 
to  Edgar  Ardenne,  that  he  would  present  himself 
a  candidate  to  fill  the -seat  as  member  for  their 
borough  in  the  most  worshipful  the  commons 
House  of  Parliament,  lately  made  vacant  by  the  un 
timely  death  of  their  regretted  and  right  trusty  del 
egate,  Elias  Chaloner.  The  second  was  a  brief 
explanatory  statement,  signed  by  the  mayor  and 
several  of  the  leading  burghers  of  the  town,  assu 
ring  him,  that  all  he  had  to  do  in  order  to  secure 
election  was  to  make  known  to  them  his  willing 
ness  to  serve  in  parliament,  as  no  other  candidate 
w%g  in  the  field ;  nor,  if  there  were,  could  any  have 
the  smallest  chance  of  coping  with  success  against 
a  nominee  so  universally  admired  and  approved  by 
every  class  of  voters.  No  pledge  was  asked — no 
line  of  conduct  indicated,  to  which  it  was  expected 
that  he  shojild  adhere — no  query  hinted  at,  con 
cerning  his  attachment  to  either  of  the  parties,  be 
tween  which  the  whole  of  England  was  at  that 


80  CROMWELL. 

time  divided.     They  were  sufficiently  assured,  the 
letter  stated,  of  the  integrity,  the  wisdom,  and  the 
constancy  of  him  on  whom  their  choice  had  fallen ; 
so  well  assured,  that  they  were  perfectly  content, 
without  condition  specified  or  question  asked,  to 
place  their  interests,  their  hopes,  their  fortunes, 
and,  if  need  were,  their  lives,  at  his  disposal.     In 
mute  astonishment  he  read  successively  these  sev 
eral  documents  ;  and  still,  the  more  he  read,  the 
more  his  wonder  and  his  doubts  increased.     That 
he,  who  had  been  absent  from  the  land  of  his  fa 
thers  almost  from  the  day  on  which  he  first  wrote 
man — that  he,  unstamped  by  any  public  act  or  pri 
vate  declaration ;    uncommitted   to  any  party  or 
opinion,  nay,  undecided,  for  aught  that  the  world 
knew,  in  his  own  mind  as  to  which  cause  he  should 
espouse  in  the  approaching  contest,  foreseen  by 
him  as  by  all  men  endowed  with  ordinary  pre 
science  of  events — that  he  should  be  thus  sum 
moned,  within  two  weeks  of  his  arrival  in  his  na 
tive  country,  and  that  without  a  pledge,  to  fill  a 
place  the  most  conspicuous  to  which  a  private  in 
dividual  can  well  aspire — that  he  should  be  thus 
eminently  trusted,  and  by  men  whose  very  names 
were  strangers  to  his  ears;  whose  town  he  had 
never  even  entered  save  as  a  passing  traveller; 
whose  principles,  but  from  the  somewhat  formal 
and  affected  plainness  of  their  style,  together  wijh 
the  unseemly  garments  and  austere  demeanour  of 
their  messenger,  he  had  no  means  of  so  muchaas 
conjecturing ;  and  who,  so  far  as  he  could  compre 
hend,  must  be  still  more  at  a  loss  to  judge  of  the 
parts  or  principles  of  him,  to  whom  they  had  so 
confidently  offered  the  representation  of  their  in 
terests,  the  proxy  of  their  united  voices  ; — all  this 
was  indeed  sufficiently  "embarrassing,  nay,  unac 
countable  at  any  time ;  and  the  more  so  at  a  period 


CROMWELL.  81 

when  political  intrigue  and  treachery  were  rife,  be 
yond  all  precedent,  among  the  men  reputed  as  the 
leaders  in  the  councils  of  the  nation.  That  such  a 
call  was  flattering,  and  that  in  a  degree  not  trivial 
or  accustomed,  could  not  be  doubted  or  denied 
but  while  he  felt  that  sweetest,  most  ennobling  of 
sensations,  the  conviction  that  his  character  was 
understood  and  his  worth  appreciated  by  his  fellow- 
citizens,  mingled  with  a  high  consciousness  that 
his  eloquence,  his  learning,  and  experience  might 
indeed  minister  not  smally  to  the  welfare  of  his 
country,  Ardenne  was  yet  perplexed,  anxious,  and 
doubtful. 

Nor  did  it  seem  that  he  was  destined  easily  or 
by  any  effort  of  his  own  to  extricate  himself  from 
this  uncertainty ;  for  when,  after  musing  long  and 
vainly  on  the  import  of  the  letters,  he  turned  for 
information  to  the  messenger,  that  worthy,  doubt 
less  resenting  with  all  the  rancour  of  a  petty  mind 
the  merited  rebuke  of  Edgar,  wrapped  himself  up 
in  such  a  veil  of  real  or  pretended  dulness  as  de 
fied  every  species  of  cross-examination  applied  to 
wring  from  his  fanatic  obstinacy  the  reluctant  truth. 
He  had  been  sent,  he  said,  an  hired  messenger, 
to  carry  certain  missives,  not  to  expound  enigmas, 
nor  to  illuminate  the  darkness  of  those  whom,  it 
might  be,  Jehovah  had  for  their  sins  involved  in- 
th^  dark  night  of  ignorance.     He  knew  not  aught 
of  the  matter;  nor,  if  he  had  known,  should  he 
ha^p  deemed  it  fitting  to  reveal  that  which  those 
worthy  persons,  his  employers,  had  found  it  meet 
to  leave  uncertain.     The  burgh  of  Huntingdon,  he 
answered,  when  Edgar  varied  the  subject  and  the 
manner  of  his  investigation — the  burgh  of  Hunt 
ingdon  was  a  tr,\»e.  town  and  godly — its  late  mem 
ber,  good  Elia-s  Cbaloner,  a  man  learned  beyond 
his  fellows,  not'  in  the  vain  and  carnal  lore  of  the 


82  CROMWELL. 

idolatrous  and  God-defying  heathen,  but  in  the  pure 
and  sanctifying  wisdom  of  the  gospel !  Of  its  pol 
itics  he  knew  not  any  thing,  nor  cared.  Some  cav 
aliers  there  were — debosht  rakehelly  profligates — 
such  as  the  Knight  of  Hinchinbrook,  uncle  of  wor 
thy  Master  Cromwell,  now  sitting  in  the  commons 
house  for  the  right  saintly  town  of  Cambridge,  and 
others  not  a  few.  But  of  a  truth  the  citizens, 
craftsmen,  and  artisans,  ay,  and  the  mayor  and 
council,  were  pious  and  God-fearing  men,  seeking 
the  Lord  alway,  day  and  night,  in  prayer  and  med 
itation.  For  the  rest,  if  it  were  so  that  they  had 
summoned  Master  Ardenne  to  be  their  deputy  in 
parliament,  verily  theirs  was  the  power  to  do  so — 
ay,  and  they  knew  right  well  the  wherefore  !  They 
were  not  men,  he  trowed,  to  leap  i'  the  dark  and  to 
repent  at  leisure.  If  Master  Ardenne  thought  it 
good  to  suit  himself  to  this  promotion,  his,  as  was 
very  fitting,  would  be  the  honour  and  advancement. 
If  not,  the  men  of  Huntingdon  would  be  at  little 
trouble  to  elect  as  good  if  not  an  abler  statesman 
to  represent  their  voices. 

In  this  unsatisfied  and  dubious  state  of  mind 
Edgar,  with  his  uncourtly  comrade,  arrived  at  the 
park  gates  ;  and,  quickening  his  pace,  rode  hastily 
along  the  noble  avenue  of  elms  to  the  main  en 
trance,  flung  his  rein  to  a  groom,  and  consigning 
his  companion  to  the  attentions  of  the  gray-headed 
steward,  passed  with  a  hurried  and  irregular  step 
to  his  own  chamber ;  there,  in  undisturbed  and*si- 
lent  solitude,  to  ponder  on  his  singular  position. 
An  hour  fled  by,  as  with  his  head  propped  on  his 
hands,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  characters  of 
which  his  mind  however  took  no  note,  he  racked 
his  brain  with  almost  hopeless  efforjts  to  conjecture 
who  might  be  the  secret  movers  in  this  matter. 
That  his  friend  Milton  had  ever  been  an  ardent 


CROMWELL.  83 

votary  of  liberty,  in  its  most  liberal  and  extended 
sense — a  dreamer  of  those  bright  Utopian  visions 
concerning  perfect  commonwealths  and  absolute 
equality  of  man,  which,  in  whatever  age  or  country, 
never  have  been — never  can  be  realized — a  mod 
eller  of  constitutions  excellent  in  contemplation,  but 
untested  by  experience ;  or,  if  tested  by  the  self- 
styled  republics,  but  real  aristocracies,  of  early 
Rome  or  earlier  Greece,  proved  only  to  be  fickle, 
changeful,  and  unstable,  Ardenne  well  knew  ; — and 
often  with  delighted  ears  had  listened,  and  with 
a  mind  that  yielded  to  the  inthralling  grandeur  of 
those  theoretic  dreamings,  while  it  perceived  their 
fallacy,  to  the  deep-souled  and  burning  eloquence 
with  which  he  loved  to  advocate  his  wild  but 
splendid  projects.  He  had  moreover  heard,  that 
subsequently  to  his  return  from  Italy,  the  sage  en 
thusiast  had  devoted  himself  with  stern  and  self- 
denying  application  to  the  maintenance  of  the 
most  rigid  puritanic  forms  of  Protestant  morality 
and  doctrines  against  the  laxer  customs  of  the 
Church  of  England,  at  that  time  assimilating  it 
self  daily  more  and  more,  through  the  bigoted  ob 
stinacy  of  its  reckless  monarch,  and  of  that  most 
dangerous  of  all  his  counsellors,  the  haughty  and 
half  papish  Laud,  to  the  detested  ritual  and  creed 
of  Rome.  Nor  could  he  doubt,  well  as  he  was 
infcrmed  of  the  almost  inseparable  league  between 
puritanism  in  religion  and  the  love  of  freedom  in 
the  state,  that  the  already  celebrated  author  of 
"Reformation  in  England,"  and  "the  Reason  of 
Church  Government,"  was  no  less  strongly  inter 
ested  in  opposition  to  that  extension  of  prerogative, 
already  stretched  to  the  very  verge  of  absolute  and 
irresponsible  autocracy,  than  his  illustrious  admi 
rers  and  associates,  Hampden  and  Pym.  Still  he 
could  not  easily  give  credence  to  the  fancy,  that 


84  CROMWELL. 

Milton  only — for  to  him  alone,  of  all  those  patriots 
with  whom  his  spirit  sympathized  so  warmly  in 
their  devoted  struggles  in  behalf  of  England's  con 
stitution,  was  he  personally  or  intimately  known — 
should  have  possessed  the  power  to  procure  him 
that  untrammelled  offer  of  a  seat,  which  individuals 
of  far  greater  eminence  might  have  been  proud  to 
occupy.  Amid  these  painful  meditations  too  there 
ran  a  mingled  strain  of  deeper,  because  more 
personal,  disquietude — an  agonizing  apprehension, 
amounting  almost  to  a  certainty,  that  a  seat  in  par 
liament,  entailing  on  him,  as  it  necessarily  must, 
the  highest  of  all  moral  obligations — binding  him, 
with  fetters  stronger  a  hundred-fold  than  the  poetic 
adamant,  to  the  upholding  of  that  cause  which  his 
mature  unbiased  judgment  should  deem  right — 
must  set  him  on  the  instant  in  direct  unnatural  op 
position  to  his  father;  and  yet  worse,  must  sever 
him  from  her  whose  love  he  surely  prized  above 
all  mortal  blessings.  It  was  in  vain  that  he  at 
tempted  to  shake  off  the  leaden  weight  of  this 
dark  apprehension — it  was  to  no  purpose  that  hope 
whispered  to  his  bosom  how  all  might  yet  be  well 
— it  was  to  no  purpose  that  he  strove  to  reconcile 
the  diverse  paths  of  duty  arid  of  pleasure.  A  dozen 
times  he  took  his  pen  in  hand  to  write  an  answer 
to  the  perplexing  invitation ;  and  as  often  threw  it 
from  him  in  utter  inability  to  frame  a  single  se/i- 
tence.  Once,  at  suggestion  of  his  warmer  pas 
sions,  and  yielding  to  the  persuasion  of  that  single 
grain  of  selfishness,  which  must  still  lurk  in  every 
bosom,  even  of  the  best  and  purest,  his  fingers 
traced  three  lines  of  absolute  denial ;  but,  ere  the 
clause  was  finished,  the  juster  sense  returned,  and 
the  torn  sheet  was  in  an  instant  shrivelling  arnid 
the  logs  that  crackled  on  the  hearthstone.  "  No, 
no !"  he  cried  aloud,  in  the  low  husky  tones  which 


CROMWELL.  85 

tell  so  fearfully  of  inward  agony.     "  No,  no — my 
country — never  will  I  betray  thee  at  thine  utmost 
need  ! — What  though  my  heart  be  broken  in  the 
strife — what  though  I  lose  all  things  that  make  this 
earth  a  paradise  and  not  a  hell — what  though  I  per 
ish — or,  yet  worse,  live  homeless,  friendless,  father 
less,  deserted — hated  by  whom  I  most  adore,  and 
cursed  by  whom  I  bless — what  though  J,  /,  one 
man  and  for  one  little  life,  must  bear  all  anguish 
that  a  life  can  compass, — shall  I  for  this  shrink 
back,  knowing  that  England  needs  the  voice,  the 
hand,  the  soul  of  every  son  she  has,  to  save  her 
from  destruction — to  redeem  her  living  millions — 
her  millions  yet  unborn — from  countless  centuries 
of  servitude  and  sorrow !     The  cup — the  cup  is 
filled !     God  grant  me  strength  to  drain  it — ay,  to 
the  very  dregs !"      And  with  a  calm   unfaltering 
hand  he  drew  a  brief  but  full  acceptance  of  the 
trust  so  proffered  to  his  choice, — pledging  himself 
to  act,  so  long  as  he  should  represent  their  voices, 
so,  and  so  only,  as  his  own  heart  should  dictate. 
"  I  would,"  he   wrote,  "  before  investing  myself 
with  the  great  and  onerous  responsibility  you  wish 
to  impose  upon  me — I  would   that   you   should 
clearly  know   and  apprehend  my  principles  and 
rule  of  action.     All  party  I  disclaim — all  precon 
ceived  opinion  from  my  soul  I  disavow !     To  hold 
the  .freedom  of  our  land  inviolate — of  our  religion 
pure,   I  do  esteem  the  first  of  duties.      But  the 
freedom  which  I  look  to — I  do  pray  you  mark  me 
now,  so  shall  there  be  no  blame  hereafter — is  the 
freedom  of  our  British  Constitution,  not  the  licen 
tious  anarchy  of  democratic  innovation — and  the 
religion  which  I  will  maintain  is  the  religion  of  my 
fathers — the  reformed  church  of  England,  equally 
aloof  from  the  debasing  superstitions  of  the  Romish 
creed,  and  from  the  stem  fanaticism  of  Lutheran 
VOL.  I.— H 


86  CROMWELL. 

or  Calvinistic  sectaries.  If,  then,  on  knowing  these 
my  tenets  both  of  church  and  state,  ye  make  it 
your  election  still  to  go  forward  in  this  matter,  I 
shall  so  labour — with  such  powers  both  of  mind  and 
body  as  God  in  his  good  wisdom  has  assigned 
me — as  I  may  deem  the  fittest  to  secure  unto  our 
selves,  and  unto  our  posterity  for  ever,  the  blessings 
of  a  government  at  once  liberal  and  firm — of  a  re 
ligion  pure,  no  less  than  tolerant  and  free.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  ye  doubt  in  aught  my  motives,  or 
disapprove  my  principles  as  stated  heretofore — if 
ye  do  look  that  I  should  yield  at  any  time,  or  un 
der  any  circumstance,  my  own  conviction  to  the 
opinion  or  the  prejudice  of  others — even  of  your 
selves,  my  own  constituents — then  make  at  once  a 
fresh  selection,  choosing  a  man  more  suited  to 
your  purposes ;  accepting  in  meanwhile  my  high 
consideration  of  the  honour  ye  have  done  me,  in 
thus  summoning  me,  as  yet  a  stranger,  to  the  high 
est  station  of  your  trust." 

Scarcely  had  he  concluded  his  epistle,  ere  a 
quick  heavy  footstep  sounded  through  the  corridor 
— approached  his  chamber  door,  and  paused  beside 
it,  followed  by  a  short  firm  tap  upon  the  oaken  pan 
el.  "  Now  comes  the  crisis  of  my  fate,"  inwardly 
muttered  Ardenne,  as,  recognising  on  the  instant 
the  footstep  of  his  father,  he  hurried  to  admit 
him. 

"  So  studious,  Edgar  ?"  cried  the  veteran ; 
"  plunged  to  your  very  neck  in  parchments  ! — The 
matter  must,  I  trow,  be  all-important,  that  should 
have  won  you  homeward  from  such  music  as  was 
ringing  in  your  ears,  when  you  this  morning  left  us 
in  the  Vale  of  Bardsey  !  'Fore  George,  but  he  ran 
gallantly  and  straight,  poor  dapple  ! — turned  him  to 
bay  in  the  Witch  hollo  w  beneath  Leader  hill — gored 
brindled  Mortimer  to  the  death  ere  I  came  up  with 


CROMWELL.  87 

him,  and  hurt  some  six  or  eight  of  the  others. 
What  in  the  fiend's  name  called  you  home  ?  What 
clouds  your  face  even  now  so  darkly  ?  Speak,  Ed 
gar,  hast  ill  tidings  ?" 

"  Not  ill,  sir,  not  ill  tidings,  but  of  weighty  im 
port,"  answered  Ardenne,  as  his  father  threw  him 
self  upon  a  massive  settle  in  the  chimney  corner ; 
"  and  such  as  have  urged  on  me  much  grave  thought 
ere  I  might  answer  them !"  and,  as  he  spoke,  he 
tendered  to  his  hand  the  invitation  from  the  burgh 
of  Huntingdon.  "  Here,  if  my  visage  be  o'ercast, 
here  shall  you  find  the  cause — and  this,  when  you 
shall  have  perused  the  first,  contains  my  answer." 
With  deep  anxiety  did  the  eye  of  Edgar  dwell 
upon  the  keen  intelligent  features  of  the  aged  man, 
fitfully  lighted  up  by  the  uncertain  gleams  from  the 
piled  hearth — for  evening  had  crept  on  them  unper- 
ceived,  and  the  sky  was  growing  dark  apace — as 
he  read  the  letters  by  the  firelight.  Changes  there 
were  indeed  upon  the  broad  unwrinkled  forehead, 
chasing  each  other  over  it  in  quick  succession — 
now  a  deep  frown  corded  the  muscles  of  the  brow, 
but  more  perhaps  from  the  effects  of  thought  than 
from  disgust  or  anger — anon  it  was  relaxed,  and  a 
more  bland  expression  played  around  the  mouth, 
and  the  full  open  eye  shone  cheerfully.  Again 
the  glance  was  clouded,  and  the  lip  curled  in  scorn, 
till  every  hair  of  his  mustache  worked  as  it  were 
instinct  with  life. 

"  The  roundhead  scurvy  villains  !"  he  exclaimed 
at  length,  striking  the  extended  parchment  forcibly 
with  the  forefinger  of  his  right  hand ;  "  the  base 
mechanical  burghers  ! — I  marvel  they  should  dare 
pollute  a  gentleman's  ear  with  their  accursed  puri 
tanic  cant.  You  have  refused  them,  Edgar — indig 
nantly  hurled  back  their  most  insulting  proffer  in 
their  teeth !  Is  it  not  so  ? — now,  on  your  life,  say 


ay!" 


88  CROMWELL. 

"  I  see  it  not  in  this  light,  sir,"  Edgar  replied, 
respectfully  but  firmly ;  "  I  see  it  not  at  all  in  this 
light — nor  is  there  aught,  to  my  poor  comprehen 
sion,  either  of  cant  or  insult  in  this  invitation." 

"  Doubtless  you  have  accepted  it — this  flattering 
invitation  !"  interrupted  the  old  man,  with  an  expres 
sion  of  the  most  bitter  irony ;  "  doubtless  you  have !" 
"  I  have  accepted  it,"  calmly  returned  his  son ; 
"I  have  indeed  accepted  it,  nor  can  I  possibly 
conceive — " 

"  You  have  not,  Edgar  Ardenne,"  his  'father 
almost  shouted,  as  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  spurning 
the  footstool  from  beneath  them  to  the  farther  cor 
ner  of  the  room ;  "  you  have  not  dared  to  do  so ! 
You !  you !  an  Ardenne — heir  to  some  twenty 
generations  of  high-minded,  noble,  loyal  cavaliers 
— you  blend  yourself  with  the  foul  puddle  blood  of 
craftsmen  and  pinched  beggarly  mechanics — you 
band  yourself  with  hypocrites  and  traitors  against 
your  church,  your  country,  and  your  king  ! — No, 
no  ! — it  can  not  be  !" 

u  Indeed  !  indeed  !  it  could  not,"  replied  Edgar, 
in  tones  almost  femininely  soothing ;  "  indeed  it 
could  not  be,  that  I  should  ever  mix  myself  with 
aught  degenerate  or  base,  much  less  with  aught 
unprincipled  or  traitorous.  But,  of  a  truth,  my 
father,  I  apprehend  not  any  thing — though  strain 
ing  to  the  utmost  of  my  understanding — I  appre 
hend  not  any  thing  here  written  to  imply  aught 
that  can  by  any  means  be  tortured  into  treason  or 
fanaticism.  Nay,  for  my  part,  I  find  not  aught  that 
would  restrain  me,  if  I  should  be  so  minded,  from 
degrading  loyalty,  even  as  the  member  for  this 
very  borough,  into  most  prostrate  oriental  slavish- 
ness — from  bartering  our  reformed  religion  for 
Romish  superstition !  A  seat  is  proffered  to  me 
freely — without  condition,  pledge,  or  hint  of  any 


CROMWELL.  89 

interference.  Nay !  the  constituents  aver  that 
they  refer  themselves  in  all  things  to  my  judgment 
— submit  themselves  to  absolute  dictation  of  my 
individual  will.  Now,  sir,  it  seems  to  me — I  pray 
you  so  far  pardon  me  as  to  permit  me  speak  to 
the  end — it  seems  to  me,  if — as  I  see  no  cause  to 
deem  them  such — these  men  of  Huntingdon  be 
fanatics  and  traitors,  there  cannot  be  a  better  mode 
of  frustrating  their  ill  intentions,  than  that  I,  who 
most  assuredly  am  neither,  should  accept  their 
offer,  and  represent  their  bigoted  and  treasonable 
voices  by  a  most  tolerant  and  patriotic  vote  !" 

Sir  Henry's  passions  had  displayed  their  prog 
ress  on  his  features  during  his  son's  rejoinder 
even  more  strongly  and  with  more  definite  changes 
than  before.  At  the  first,  every  line  and  feature 
was  inflamed  almost  to  bursting  with  fierce  and 
fiery  indignation — varying  as  Edgar  proceeded  to 
that  air  of  obstinate  unwilling  coolness  with  which 
a  man  resigns  himself  to  some  infliction  which  he 
may  not  avoid.  Then,  as  the  truth  of  what  was 
said  impressed  itself  by  slow  degrees  upon  his 
senses,  he  listened  with  attention  approaching 
somewhat  to  respect,  till,  when  the  last  sentence 
fell  upon  Ids  ear,  and  he  fancied  that  the  full  policy 
of  his  son  was  there  disclosed  to  him,  the  mighty 
satisfaction  flashed  from  his  whole  face  as  he  ex 
claimed — 

"  Excellent !  I  was  dull  indeed  !  excellent ! 
Edgar;  and  so  'hoist  the  knave  engineers,  e'en 
with  their  own  petard !'  Tore  George  but  you 
surpass,  not  your  old  father's  talents  only — that 
you  did  ever — but  his  uttermost  wishes  !  And  so, 
when  the  fool  puritans  would  have  you  rob  the 
church  and  manacle  the  king,  vote  like  a  loyal 
cavalier ! — Now  out  on  me  for  an  old  superannu 
ated  dolt  that  would  not  hear  or  comprehend  !" 
H2 


90  CROMWELL. 

"Nay,  sir;  but  even  now,"  said  Edgar,  not  a 
little  astonished  by  this  ebullition  of  mistaken 
pleasure — "  even  now  you  do  misapprehend  me 
somewhat.  I  have  accepted  this  same  seat  in  the 
Commons,  giving  the  men  of  Huntingdon  to  know 
that  I  will  hold  myself  responsible  to  no  authority 
save  that  of  my  own  conscience.  Party,  or  place, 
I  hold  not  to,  nor  covet.  In  all  high  honour  and  in 
all  accordance  with  my  own  sense  of  just  and  right, 
will  I  vote  ever ! — If  these  men  should  dare  pro 
pose  to  me,  or  hint  that  I  should  swerve  one  hair 
breadth  from  the  course  of  truth  and  honour — then 
would  I  surely  disobey  them — spit  at  them,  and 
spurn  them.  But,  if  they  should  prove  honest,  as 
surely  will  I  compromise  no  tittle  of  their  interests 
or  their  opinions ;  and  so  far  am  I  from  suspecting 
aught  of  this,  that  I  do  well  believe  that  my  constit 
uents  will  prove  right  honest  men  and  true — else, 
under  favour  be  it  spoken,  I  deem  it  most  unlikely 
they  should  have  fixed  their  choice  on  me — a  man 
perhaps  not  altogether  void  of  some  repute  of  hon 
our,  and — if  unknown  myself — at  least  a  scion  of  a 
family  that  has  not  ever  stooped  to  fraud  or  to  dis 
grace  !" 

"  Enough  said  !  Edgar ;  enough  said  !  I  was  a 
fool  to  doubt  thee ;"  and  the  old  man  grasped  his 
hand  with  warm  affection  as  he  answered,  while  a 
tear  slid  down  his  withered  cheek  ;  "  I  was  a  fool  to 
doubt  thee — for  thou  wert  ever  true  and  noble,  as  I 
was  eve^over-choleric  and  rash.  Some  things  too, 
in  good  sooth,  there  are,  that  might  be  well  amended ! 
This  ship-money  I  like  not  altogether — nor  these 
violent  forced  subsidies — yet  less  like  I  the  sordid 
puritanic  knaves  who  do  oppose  them,  not  that 
they  know  or  understand  the  evil  of  the  measures 
which  they  rail  at,  but  that  they  would  embarrass 
and  annoy,  and,  if  their  means  were  mated  to  their 


CROMWELL.  91 

will,  perchance  o'erturn  the  government  from  which 
those  measures  emanate — not  that  they  love  their 
country,  but  that  they  hate  their  king — because, 
being  base  themselves,  they  loathe  the  very  name 
of  what  is  high,  or  generous,  or  noble — because, 
having  naught  to  lose  even  in  England's  ruin,  they 
may  gain  all  in  the  midst  of  uproar  and  confusion. 
But  enough  said ! — you  shall  receive  their  offer, 
since  so  you  will  it,  although  I  hold  a  promise  of  a 
borough  from  my  Lord  of  Middleton  awaiting  your 
acceptance,  for  which — I  speak  it  in  all  candour — 
I  would  far  rather  have  you  member  than  for  this 
beggarly  psalm-singing  body  corporate  of  Hunting 
don.  But  enough  said  ! — Bear  with  me,  Edgar,  for 
I  am  old,  and  choleric  withal,  and  hasty  !  And  now 
to  supper !  For  John,  cook,  will  be  foaming  an 
his  goosepie  be  burnt,  or  his  beef  boiled  to  rags 
— as  with  o'erflowing  eyes  he  swore  to  me  they 
were  last  night,  and  all  through  fault  of  mine  !" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  'Tis  hard  to  part — 

When  youthful  hearts  with  treasured  dreams  are  high 
Of  sunny  days,  and  calmest  nights  serene, — 
A  happy  future  ! — but  oh  harder  far, 
When  dark  anticipation  veils  the  scene 
With  melancholy  clouds,  and  hard  at  hand 
Sits  chill  despair— that  vulture  of  the  soul — 
Watching  the  latest  gleam  of  hope  expire 
To  pounce  her  conscious  prey." 

TIME  journeyed  onward — and  with  a  flight  as 
rapid,  when  every  day  and  hour  was  charged  with 
tidings  of  some  great  event,  with  some  terrific  ru 
mour,  or  some  perilous  foreboding,  as  though  it  had 


92  CROMWELL. 

ebbed  noiselessly  away  in  peace  and  in  obscurity. 
The  golden  days  of  autumn  had  already  flown — 
the  last  slow  wain  had  dragged  its  freight  to  the 
piled  threshing-floor — the  last  flower  had  shed  its 
petals  scentless  and  colourless  upon  the  frosted 
grass.  The  leaves,  that  had  for  many  weeks 
clothed  grove  and  forest  in  a  rich  garb  of  many- 
coloured  splendour,  now  detached  themselves  one 
by  one  from  the  sere  branches,  and  fell  whirling 
slowly  in  the  heavy  atmosphere,  like  hopes  blight 
ed  before  accomplishment,  to  the  dank  steamy 
earth — the  glimpses  of  the  sun  were  rarer  and 
more  pallid  than  their  wont,  and  often  in  the  depth 
of  night  the  mighty  winds  went  forth,  wailing  as  if 
in  sorrow  o.ver  the  faded  glories  of  the  year.  Nor 
were  the  signs  of  the  times  less  gloomy  than  the 
tokens  of  the  season.  All  England  was  in  con 
fusion  and  dismay,  and  both  these  hourly  increas 
ing,  till  the  one  half  of  the  people  was  wellnigh 
maddened  by  its  fears,  the  other  by  the  excitement 
of  its  own  fierce  and  stormy  passions.  To-day  a 
rumour  was  abroad  of  mighty  armaments  levied  be 
yond  the  sea;  and  even  now  preparing  to  pollute 
with  foreign  weapons  the  free  soil  of  England,  and 
to  erect  the  power  of  her  monarch,  already  stretched 
beyond  all  limits  of  constitutional  sway,  into  abso 
lute  and  self-controlling  tyranny.  On  the  next,  a 
tale  was  rife  that  Pym,  the  champion  of  the  peo 
ple's  cause  and  king  of  their  affections,  had  been 
assailed,  perhaps  even  murdered,  by  the  hired 
emissaries  of  a  sovereign  stern  and  cold  by  nature, 
and  rendered  merciless  and  cruel  by  the  extremity 
of  terror.  Then  came  the  one  great  accusation, 
swallowing  up  in  its  atrocity  all  lesser  charges,  all 
inferior  crimes,  as  the  sunshine  drinks  up  and  blots 
from  heaven  the  fainter  lustre  of  the  stars ! — The 
one  great  accusation,  at  that  time  generally  credited 


CROMWELL.  93 

by  men  of  every  class  except  perhaps  a  few  of  the 
most  confiding  and  most  generous  cavaliers — and 
since  those   days   confirmed    almost   beyond    the 
possibility  of  doubt — that  the  Irish  rebellion,  with 
all  its  horrible  features  of  midnight  massacre  and 
midday  conflagration,  was  the  premeditated,  coolly 
calculated,  work  of  Charles  and  Henrietta !     The 
one  great  accusation,  penetrating  every  breast,  in 
every  rank  of  persons,  with  mingled  sentiments  of 
pity,  horror,  hatred,  and  disgust;  imbittering  still 
more  against  him  the  foes  of  the  misguided  sover 
eign,  and  alienating  from  his  side  many  of  those 
devoted  and  enthusiastic  spirits,  that  never  would 
have  swerved  from  their  allegiance,  so  long  as  they 
had  sense  or  being,  had  he  but  shown  himself  in 
the  most  trivial  circumstances  constant,  not  to  his 
faithful  servants,  but  to  his  own  true  interests,  or 
even  to  himself.     In  the  Commons  house  the  minds 
of  men  were  even  more  unsettled  than  in  the  world 
at  large — parties  ran  daily  higher,  and  with  a  greater 
share  of  virulence  and  private  animosity  than  at  any 
previous  period ;  and,  indeed,  it  seemed  that  the 
king  himself  was  labouring  as  earnestly  to  the  ad 
vantage  of  his  enemies,  the  puritans,  as  they  them 
selves  could  wish.     At  the  first  meeting  of  the 
parliament,  a  committee  had  been  appointed  "  to 
draw  up  a  general  remonstrance  of  the  state  of  the 
kingdom,  and  the  particular  grievances  it  had  sus 
tained  ;"  which,  after  its  first  nomination,  had,  how 
ever,  scarcely  ever  met,  and  was  almost  forgotten. 
But    now,  during    the   causeless   and  protracted 
absence  of   the    ill-fated    monarch    in    the    sister 
kingdom — irritated  by  his  apathy  with  regard  to 
bleeding  Ireland — appreciating  fully  his  dishonest 
motives  in  lingering  at  a  distance  from  his  parlia 
ment — and    goaded    almost    to    madness    by    his 
attempt  to  seize  or  to  assassinate,  as  many  did  in 


94  CROMWELL. 

truth  believe,  Argyle  and  Hamilton — the  party 
came  to  the  resolve  of  reproducing  that  moment 
ous  question ;  and,  in  accordance  with  their  views, 
upon  Strode's  motion,  it  was  carried,  that  "the 
committee  of  remonstrance  be  revived,  and  or 
dered  without  more  delay  to  meet ;"  and  time  and 
place  incontinently  were  appointed.  Within  a 
few  days  of  this  measure,  a  bill  of  far  more  ques 
tionable  character,  and  justified  alone — if  it  might 
any  way  be  justified — by  the  unwonted  and  most 
unbecoming  violence  of  the  spiritual  lords,  who 
lent  themselves  in  every  instance  as  willing  instru 
ments  to  aid  the  usurpation  of  the  sovereign,  and 
scrupled  not  to  violate  the  spirit  and  the  letter  of 
the  laws  against  the  Romish  church — was  intro 
duced,  ordered  by  a  majority  of  voices  to  be  read, 
and,  without  any  opposition  worthy  of  remark, 
transmitted  to  the  lords,  for  the  disabling  the 
bishops  from  the  exercise  of  voting  in  the  upper 
house,  or  of  any  temporal  office  throughout  the 
kingdom.  Just  at  this  critical  and  anxious  junc 
ture,  with  his  accustomed  rashness  and  inveterate 
obstinacy,  Charles  deemed  it  fitting  to  collate  five 
preachers  of  undoubted  eminence  and  learning,  but 
known  as  well  for  principles  of  state  the  most  ob 
noxious  as  for  their  talents,  to  as  many  sees  vacant 
by  death  or  by  translation — in  absolute  defiance,  as 
it  seemed,  to  the  desires  of  the  popular  branch  of 
legislation,  and  contrary  to  the  advice  of  his  most 
trustworthy  and  valuable  counsellors.  In  the  midst 
of  the  tumults — for  to  an  extent  which  scarcely  can 
be  designated  by  a  less  forcible  word  was  the  vio 
lent  struggle  carried  between  the  upper  and  the 
lower  houses — consequent  upon  this  doubtful  meas 
ure,  tidings  arrived  in  London,  that  on  a  day  ap 
pointed,  having  arranged  all  matters  in  that  king 
dom  to  the  general  satisfaction,  his  majesty  intended 


CROMWELL.  95 

to  depart  from  Scotland  on  his  homeward  progress ; 
and  straightway  the  committee  offered  the  report 
of  their  proceedings,  together  with  a  draught  of  the 
remonstrance,  to  the  house ;  which  instantly,  al 
though  divided  much  in  sentiment,  and,  as  many 
thought,  in  general  opposed  to  this  decisive  stroke, 
proceeded  to  discuss  it  with  a  degree  of  bitterness 
and  fury  perhaps  unprecedented  except  in  the 
debates  upon  the  case  of  Strafford.  In  the  mean 
while  an  answer  had  been  returned  to  Ardenne  by 
his  constituents  of  Huntingdon,  agreeing  fully  lo 
the  terms  he  had  proposed,  whereon  to  serve  them 
in  the  Commons  as  their  representative  and  mem 
ber  ;  and  urging  him,  so  soon  as  it  might  be  con 
sistent  with  his  leisure,  to  betake  himself  to  Lon 
don,  there  to  assume  his  seat.  All  preparations  had 
been  made  for  his  departure ;  chambers  secured 
for  him  in  Westminster;  his  retinue  and  horses 
sent  before  him ;  nay,  even  a  day  fixed  whereon 
again  to  leave,  after  so  brief  enjoyment  of  its 
serene  and  tranquil  pleasures,  his  paternal  home. 
He  felt  not,  it  is  true,  that  terrible  sensation  of 
passionate  and  overwhelming  sorrow  which  drowns 
the  hearts  of  the  young  at  their  first  setting  forth 
into  the  wide  and  cheerless  world,  from  the  dear 
roof  that  saw  their  birth ! — much  less  that  sullen 
and  collected  bitterness  with  which  the  exile  gazes, 
ere  he  turn  from  them  for  ever,  upon  the  scenes 
never  before  so  beautiful  or  so  beloved ! — but  he 
did  feel  a  heavy  and  continual  gloom  clouding,  he 
knew  not  wherefore,  all  his  anticipations  of  the 
future — an  ominous  and  all-engrossing  sense  of 
coming  evil — a  prophetic  fear,  that  it  would  ne'er 
be  his  again  to  cast  away  the  burden  of  his  sor 
rows,  and  be,  as  it  were,  once  again  a  child  in  spirit, 
beside  that  old  domestic  hearth — a  fear  not  justi 
fied,  perhaps,  by  any  clear  perception,  nor  founded 


96  CROMWELL. 

upon  any  evidence  of  judgment ;  but  still  oppres 
sing  his  mind,  no  less  than  the  influence  of  a  coming 
thunder-storm  is  often  seen  to  agitate  the  lower 
grades  of  animal  creation,  when  not  a  speck  of 
cloud  is  visible  as  yet  above  the  clear  horizon. 
As  far  indeed  as  regarded  any  real  or  well-founded 
apprehensions,  Ardenne  had  every  following  day 
less  cause  to  dread  a  rupture  with  his  father  in 
consequence  of  any  difference  in  politics ;  for  so 
completely  had  the  old  man  taken  up  the  notion 
that  his  son  intended  to  apply  his  nomination  by 
the  puritanic  party  to  the  advancement  of  the 
royal  interests,  that  Edgar  fruitlessly  endeavoured 
to  apprize  him  of  the  error,  and  to  convince  him 
of  his  own  sincerity  and  singleness  of  purpose. 

"  Right !  right !  boy,"  he  would  cry ;  "  never  be 
tray  your  counsel ! — and  in  good  sooth  thou  hast  a 
perilous  part  to  play,  and  a  politic — best  vote  a 
few  times  with  the  canting  knaves — so  better  to 
throw  dust  i'  their  eyes,  that  they  discover  not  thy 
game  ere  it  be  fit  time  to  disclose  it,  husbanding 
so  thy  powers  as  to  aid  our  gracious  master  in  his 
real  straits,  an'  it  should  come — which  God  avert — 
to  such  an  issue  !" 

For  a  time,  indeed — so  utterly  abhorrent  was 
the  smallest  shadow  of  deception  to  his  ingenuous 
mind  and  rigid  sense  of  honour — he  strenuously 
and  sincerely  strove  to  make  Sir  Henry  compre 
hend  his  principles — his  entire  devotion  to  the  laws 
and  constitution  of  his  country,  as  established  by 
the  precedent  of  ages,  not  as  interpreted  by  the 
corrupt  and  pensioned  lawyers  of  the  court — his 
firm  attachment  to  the  privilege  of  Parliament,  as 
opposed  to  the  prerogative  of  the  crown — and, 
over  all,  his  absolute  disgust  at  the  late  proceed 
ings  taken  by  the  king  in  relation  to  the  claim  of 
ship-money  especially,  and  to  the  infringement  of 


CROMWELL.  97 

the  anti-Catholic  statutes  ; — but  finding  all  endeav 
ours  vain  to  overturn  his  preconceived  opinion,  he 
abandoned  altogether  the  ungracious  task,  in  an  un 
certain  state  of  mind,  bordering  at  one  moment  on 
hope,  at  another  on  its  opposite  extreme,  despair; 
arguing  within  himself,  when  brighter  thoughts 
prevailed,  that,  as  his  father's  violence  of  loyalty 
was  even  now  so  greatly  modified  as  to  permit 
him  to  allow  the  participation  of  corrupt  men,  and 
the  existence  of  evil  measures,  in  the  councils  of 
his  kingly  idol,  his  own  course  might  so  far  tally 
with  his  views,  or,  at  the  worst,  might  differ  from 
them  only  in  so  small  particulars  as  to  call  forth  no 
very  strenuous  or  lasting  reprobation ; — and  again, 
when  giving  way  to  gloomier  though  perhaps  more 
probable  imaginations,  foreseeing  that  the  obstinate 
determination  of  the  sovereign  to  dispense  with 
parliaments  ;  to  recognise  the  laws  of  the  land  but 
so  far  as  they  should  further  his  own  imperious 
wishes ;  to  rule,  in  short,  as  an  absolute  and  arbi 
trary  monarch — and  the  noble  stand  assumed  by 
the  delegates  of  the  people  in  defence  of  the  peo 
ple's  rights — would  by  no  means  ever  be  composed 
or  reconciled  except  by  arbitration  of  the  sword ; 
and  farther,  that  in  such  a  case,  as  certainly  as  he 
should  be  himself  found  warring  in  the  ranks  of 
freedom,  so  surely  would  Sir  Henry  arm  to  buck 
ler  the  time-hallowed  names  of  church  and  king, 
although  the  former  should  be  almost  Romish,  and 
the  latter  utterly  despotic. 

Thus  was  the  mind  of  Edgar  balanced  during 
the  interval  which  elapsed  between  his  first  accept 
ance  of  the  proffered  honour  and  his  departure  for 
the  metropolis — its  moods  as  various  as  the  changes 
of  an  April  day,  now  bright  with  sunshiny  and  azure 
skies,  now  blackened  with  the  scudding  rack,  and 
howling  with  the  stormy  gusts.  The  days,  how- 

VoL.  I. — I 


98  CROMWELL. 

ever,  wore  onward — the  chase  in  the  morning,  with 
its  heart-stirring  sounds  and  high  associations,  or 
the  stroll  through  the  highly-cultivated  grounds 
about  the  homestead,  or  the  familiar  visit  to  the 
independent  yeomen  or  the  sturdy  peasantry,  con 
sumed  the  earlier  hours ;  and,  when  the  mid-day 
meal  was  ended,  the  ramble  in  the  beautiful  broad 
park,  beneath  the  autumnal  trees,  with  his  sweet 
cousin — the  ramble,  finished,  as  it  seemed  to  them, 
almost  before  it  was  commenced — beguiled  the 
hours  till  twilight,  when  the  lamps  would  all  be 
lighted,  and  the  guests  assembled  in  the  lordly  hall, 
or  the  smaller  circle  gathered  about  the  parlour  fire, 
to  cheat  the  evening  with  lay  and  legend,  or  with 
sprightly  converse,  more  pleasantly  than  with  loud 
minstrelsey  and  the  gay  dance.  The  days,  however, 
wore  onward — and  although  none  else  perceived  the 
constant  cloud  that  dwelt  on  Edgar's  brow,  Sibyl 
had  marked  and  understood  it ;  and,  as  if  in  sympa 
thy,  her  own  transparent  skin  showed  less  and  less 
the  healthful  hues  of  her  elastic  blood — and  her 
deep  eye  was  always  dimmer  than  its  wont,  and 
often  tearful,  as  it  would  dwell  unnoticed  on  the 
overshadowed  features  of  her  lover,  now  constantly 
absorbed,  as  he  had  rarely  been  of  yore,  in  fits  of 
meditation,  abstracting  him  entirely  from  the  busi 
ness  or  the  pleasure  of  the  moment.  After  the 
morning  following  his  return  to  Woodleigh,  al 
though  on  other  topics  there  had  been  no  reserve 
however  trivial,  no  hesitancy  or  concealment  of 
action,  thought,  or  motive,  neither  had  again 
alluded  to  the  subject  of  their  interrupted  conver 
sation — he  shunning  it,  not  merely  because  he 
could  have  naught  agreeable,  but  because  he  had 
naught  definite  which  to  communicate,  and  there 
fore  was  unwilling,  needlessly  perhaps,  to  cloud 
her  prospects  with  certainly  a  distant,  and  not  im- 


CROMWELL.  99 

probably  a  causeless,  terror ! — and  she  not  pressing 
it,  because,  relying  with  a  pure  and  holy  confidence 
upon  her  promised  husband — a  confidence  inferior 
only  to  her  trust  in  her  Creator ! — because  seeing, 
that,  be  his  secret  sorrow  what  it  might,  he  felt  it 
not  his  duty  at  that  time  to  impart  it  to  her  ear ! — 
and  because  she  would  have  scorned  herself  could 
she  have  entertained  the  thought  but  for  a  moment 
of  obtaining  that  from  his  fondness,  which  his  judg 
ment  would  not  warrant  his  bestowing ! 

It  was  not  long,  however,  before  Sibyl  had 
another  and  a  surer  reason  for  her  silence ;  for, 
with  that  wondrous  shrewdness  which  a  woman's 
heart  possesses  in  divining  and  discovering  any 
thing  that  may  affect  it  in  its  own  particular 
province,  she  fancied  herself  ere  long  to  be  the 
mistress  of  the  causes  of  his  hidden  grief.  She 
saw  the  struggle  in  his  heart  between  his  love  for 
her  and  for  his  father,  and  his  devotion  to  his  coun 
try.  She  knew  that  in  the  heart  of  such  a  man  the 
struggle  could  last  but  for  a  single  hour  ere  it  must 
be  decided — she  suffered  no  diminution  of  her  self- 
respect,  no  fretting  of  her  vanity,  as  she  acknowl 
edged  that  her  owrn  claims  to  his  affection  must 
surely  yield  to  the  overruling  amor  patrice — and, 
while  she  sorrowed  with  the  deep  sincerity  of  a 
true  and  loving  heart  over  the  election  which,  she 
was  assured,  he  had  already  made,  she  yet  thought 
she  hardly  could  desire  that  he  had  decided  other 
wise  ! — And  even  yet  there  was  another  cause  ! — 
a  lingering  hope — that  she  might  yet  have  been  in 
error — that  she  might  falsely  have  interpreted  the 
outward  workings  of  his  mind — a  fear  of  banishing 
that  lingering  hope,  by  questioning  of  that  which 
she  most  yearned  to  know — a  dread  of  learning 
that,  which  even  now  almost  knowing  true,  she 
would  have  given  worlds  to  know  unreal. 


100  CROMWELL. 

The  days  wore  onward,  and  the  last  morning 
broke,  and  the  last  sun  arose,  which  was  to  shine 
on  Edgar  a  dweller  in  his  father's  house.  It  was 
a  clear,  bright,  cheerful  morning — a  slight  touch 
of  frost  on  the  preceding  evening  had  imparted 
just  enough  of  coldness  to  the  atmosphere  to  ren 
der  it  more  pure  and  bracing,  but  the  sun  shone 
warmly  out,  and  the  dew  sparkled  laughingly  upon 
the  shrubs  and  grass,  and  the  rooks  clove  the  liquid 
firmament  with  their  exulting  wings  at  an  immeas 
urable  pitch — all  nature  seeming  to  rejoice  with  a 
more  healthful  and  elastic  joy  than  in  the  fullest 
flush  of  summer.  It  was,  in  short,  just  such  a 
morning  as  would  make  the  careless  and  unbur 
dened  heart  sit  lightlier  on  its  throne — as  would 
impel  the  mounted  traveller  to  give  his  horse  the 
spur,  and  let  his  spirits  loose  by  a  free  and  fearless 
gallop — as  would  swell  the  pedestrian's  chest,  and 
plant  his  stride  more  firmly  on  the  sod,  and  per 
chance  unclose  his  lips  with  something  of  a  song — 
but  it  was  such  a  one  withal  as  would  cause  one 
departing  from  some  loved  and  lovely  scene,  to 
need  a  stronger  effort  to  tear  himself  away  than  he 
would  have  been  called  on  to  exert  had  the  skies 
been  lowering,  and  the  day  in  nearer  unison  with 
his  own  sad  sensations.  Accordingly,  the  tone  of 
Edgar's  feelings  were"  depressed  beyond  their 
wont,  even  as  the  aspect  of  all  visible  things  was 
fairer  than  the  promise  of  the  season — his  mien 
was  careworn,  and  at  times  it  scarcely  would  have 
been  too  strong  a  term  to  call  it  haggard — his  gait 
was  various  and  irregular,  hasty  at  times  and  hur 
ried,  and  at  times  unusually  slow — his  eye  was 
often  fixed  on  vacancy,  and  those  who  would  ad 
dress  him  were  compelled  to  speak  their  wishes 
more  than  once  ere  they  appeared  to  reach  his  un 
derstanding.  The  earlier  hours  were  consumed  in 


CROMWELL.  101 

preparations  till  high  noon  came  round,  and  he 
sat  down  to  the  last  meal  he  was  for  many  a 
month  to  taste  in  fellowship  with  those  who  sat 
beside  him,  while  the  unwelcome  thought  would 
still  intrude  itself,  that  it  might  be  verily  the 
last.  In  silence  then,  if  not  in  sorrow,  dinner 
went  by,  until  the  board  was  cleared  of  all  save 
cup  and  flagon,  and  the  old  servitors  withdrew, 
and  Sibyl  vanished — to  attend,  perchance,  her 
household  duties,  or,  more  probably,  to  give  in  pri 
vate  vent  to  the  gushing  feelings  which  she  in 
public  was  compelled  to  smother — and  sire  and 
son  were  left  without  companions.  For  a  while 
the  old  man  spoke  not,  resting  his  head  upon  his 
hand  as  if  in  anxious  thought ;  and,  although  once 
or  twice  he  raised  it  and  made  as  if  about  to 
speak,  he  yet  seemed  at  a  loss  for  words — at 
length,  as  if  with  something  of  an  effort,  he 
aroused  himself,  filled  up  his  goblet  from  the  stoop 
of  Bordeaux  wine  before  him,  and,  pushing  it 
toward  his  son,  motioned  that  he  should  follow  the 
example — gazed  for  a  moment  wistfully  upon  the 
clouded  features  that  met  his  eye,  and  with  a  nod 
and  smile  that  vainly  struggled  to  be  lightsome, 
emptied  his  winecup. 

"  Come,  Edgar,  come !"  he  said,  "  this  gloom 
will  never  do  ! — Cheer  up,  kind  heart,  cheer  up  ! — 
Thou  takest  on  more  sadly  now  methinks  than 
when  thou  left  us  for  thy  three  years  term  of  ser 
vice  in  the  Low  Countries !  but  I  can  see  how  sits 
the  wind — old  though  I  be,  and  past  these  toys 
this  many  a  winter's  day — I  mind  when  I  was  a 
young  cavalier,  and  not — although  I  say  it  who 
should  not — the  most  unlikely  in  the  court  of  good 
Queen  Bess,  we  ne'er  shall  look  upon  her  like 
again — I  mind  how  I  was  wont  to  droop  at  parting 
from — poor  Alice  ! — Sibyl,  though  passing  fair,  is 
12 


102  CROMWELL. 

naught  for  beauty  to  what  she  was ! — Well — toe> 
well !  do  I  mind  it." 

Ardenne,  who  had  shaken  off  his  air  of  abstrac 
tion  for  a  moment  as  his  father  drank  to  him,  was 
again  relapsing  into  the  same  listless  mood  on  per 
ceiving  that   his  words  were  rather  unconnected 
musings  than  such  as  called  for  answer  or  remark 
— but  when  the  name  of  Sibyl  caught  his  ear,  his 
eye  lightened,  and  the  colour  rushed  to  his  brow,  as 
he  perceived  that  his  inmost  thoughts  were  about 
to  be  subjected  to  the  keen  probe  of  mental  sur 
gery  !     "  Ay !    ay !    I  can  see  plain  enough   how 
sits  the  wind,"  continued  Sir  Henry,  without  paus 
ing  for  a  reply ;  "  though  why  you  should  be  so 
cast    down,  I  may  not   comprehend   so   readily. 
Your  cousin  Sibyl,  I  do  know  right  well,  has  long 
possessed  your  love,  and  as  long  too  returned  it. 
That  I  have  in  all  things  approved  of  this,  I  need 
not  tell  you  now,  seeing  that  you  must  well  con 
ceive,  that  knowing  this  and  not  prohibiting  was 
to  all  needful  ends  consenting.     That  you  should 
be  cast  down  at  leaving  of  so  sweet  a  girl  as  Sibyl, 
is — I  gainsay  it  not — right  natural ;  nathless  I  can 
not  but  imagine  that  you  do  apprehend  some  greater 
evil  than  a  mere  temporary  separation.    Now,  boy, 
to  the  point ! — You  would  espouse  your  cousin 
Sibyl — she  says  not  nay  ! — and  if  my  interference 
be  a  cause  of  dread  to  you,  I  say  but  this,  that  you 
have  cruelly  misjudged  your  father's  heart !     My 
benison  on  you  both !     I  know  no  sweeter  balm 
for  all  the  manifold  griefs  of  age,  than  to  make, 
and  to  see,  the  youthful  happy.     So  set  your  soul 
at  ease — brave  boy — you  shall  wed  Sibyl  when 
you  will ;  and  the  more  quickly — the  more  gladly 
and  more  surely  shall  I  witness  it.     You  start  for 
Westminster  to-night ;  and  I  have  meditated  some 
what  often  now  of  late  on  passing  this  next  -Christ- 


CROMWELL.  103 

mas-tide  in  London.  Sibyl,  poor  child,  hath  seen 
naught  of  court-gayety  nor  of  the  world  as  yet,  and 
this  is  but  a  lonesome  place  in  winter — the  more 
so  now  that  half  the  gentles  of  the  land  will,  as  it 
seems  too  likely,  be  detained  till  spring  in  the  city 
by  these  protracted  sittings  of  the  Houses,  which 
men  speak  of.  I  have  determined  now  to  give 
you  a  commission — choose  me  a  fitting  mansion — 
whether  to  rent  or  purchase  I  care  not  a  maravedi 
— in  the  Strand  if  thou  mayst,  if  not  in  Westmin 
ster  or  Charing ! — see  it  right  nobly  furnished,  and 
write  me  when  'tis  done.  I  will  bring  Sibyl  thither 
straightway,  and,  sith  you  may  not  spend  these 
holydays  with  us,  why  we  will  keep  them  up  with 
you,  I  warrant  me.  And  now  away  to  Sibyl ;  say 
to  her  all  that  I  have  said  to  you,  and  what  beside 
seerns  fitting  to  your  melancholy  mood.  Thou 
needst  not  me,  I  trow,  to  woo  her.  Fix,  if  you 
may  prevail  on  her,  your  bridal  day  at  once — 
whene'er  ye  list,  'twixt  Christmas-tide  and  Easter. 
Be  happy,  Edgar,  be  happy,  and  let  me  see  you 
so — such  is  my  only  wish  this  side  eternity, — be 
fore  I  go  to.  my  long  home."*'"*  .»  *£^'; 

"  My  good — my  generous — my  gracious  father !" 
cried  Ardenne,  affected  to  the  point  of  weeping,  as 
he  threw  himself  upon  the  old  man's  neck  ;  "  too 
good !  too  generous  !" 

"  Tush !  tush,  boy  ! — None  of  this  !"  exclaimed 
the  veteran,  hemming  away  the  husky  weakness 
from  his  throat ;  "  none  of  this — but  away  with 
you  to  Sibyl — she  is  more  fitting  object  for  these 
raptures  than  an  old  weather-beaten  trunk  like  me. 
Away  with  you !  but  hark  ye — here  is  the  ring 
that  plighted  my  departed  angel.  Let  me  behold 
it  on  her  hand,  whom  I  have  loved  the  best — nay, 
I  might  say,  the  only  one — of  women,  since  my 
own  Alice  left  me,  to  drag  out  my  pilgrimage  alone, 


104  CROMWELL. 

.  .."•• 

without  one  hope  to  cheer  it  save  that  of  meeting 
her  once  more,  when  it  shall  be,  O  Lord,  thy  mer 
ciful  and  blessed  will." 

It  would  have  been  of  no  avail — so  bent  was  the 
old  knight  on  his  benevolent  design — it  would  have 
been  of  no  avail,  even  had  Edgar  been  so  minded, 
to  strive  to  alter  or  oppose  his  projects.  They  were 
not  such,  however,  as  to  leave  a  possible  desire  to 
his  son,  which  would  not  be,  by  their  accomplish 
ment,  at  once  achieved.  He  had  no  words  to 
answer — but  the  hot  blood  rushed  tumultuously 
through  his  veins — and  his  strong  frame  quivered 
visibly  with  the  excitement  of  his  spirits,  as  he 
hurried  from  the  hall  to  seek  his  beautiful  be 
trothed.  "  Once  mine,  and  all  beside  is  nothing ! 
once  mine,  there  will  be  no  more  struggle !  Duty 
and  pleasure  will  go  hand  in  hand  !  Once  wedded, 
and  no  difference  of  opinion  then  may  put  those 
asunder  whom  God  has  joined  together !"  Such 
were  the  thoughts  that  thronged  with  irresistible 
impetuosity,  and  with  the  speed  of  light,  upon  his 
busy  brain — but  he  had  not  made  six  steps  beyond 
the  threshold  before  reflection  changed  the  pros 
pect.  "  Would  it  be  noble — honourable — upright" 
— thus  did  he  commune  with  himself;  "  would  it  be 
worthy  of  an  Ardenne — the  supporter  of  an  unblot- 
ted  fame  of  generations — nay,  rather,  would  it  not 
be  sordid — base — dishonest — and  degrading  to  the 
lowliest  gentleman,  to  win  a  credulous  confiding 
woman  by  a  fraud — by  an  implied,  if  not  a  spoken, 
lie  ? — To  let  her  wed,  believing  him  she  wedded  a 
supporter  of  the  cause  she  deemed  most  holy,  a 
soldier  armed  for  the  warfare  which  alone  to 
her  seemed  just  and  sacred — to  let  her  wed  in 
haste,  and  then  find  out  at  leisure  that  she  had 
been  deceived — vilely  deceived — by  him  she  had 
just  sworn  to  honour  ? — Not  so  !"  he  cried  aloud. 


CROMWELL.  105 

"  It  shall  not  be,  by  Heaven  !  She  shall  know  all 
— all — every  thing!  Knowing,  she  shall  accept 
my  hand — or  knowing,  cast  me  off,  but  not  at  least 
— despise  me !"  And,  as  his  mind  arrived  at  its 
mature  though  swift  conclusion,  he  reached  the 
door  of  Sibyl's  oriel  parlour — with  a  hesitating 
hand  he  struck  the  panel,  and  so  slight  was  the 
sound  that  it  conveyed  no  tidings  to  the  inmate — 
at  least  it  was  unanswered — again  he  knocked,  and 
louder  than  before — he  listened,  and  still  all  was 
silence.  Supposing  her  he  sought  to  have  gone 
forth,  he  had  already  turned  away  to  follow  her, 
when  a  faint  noise,  as  of  a  person  breathing 
heavily,  or  perhaps  gently  weeping,  attracted  his 
attention ;  he  knocked  a  third  time,  and  then — 
though  still  unbidden — entered.  She  was  within 
— she  was  alone  ! — in  the  prostration — in  the  abso 
lute  abandonment  of  feminine  and  hopeless  grief! 
Her  face  was  buried  in  her  hands,  as  she  lay 
stretched  at  length  on  the  broad  pillowed  settle 
which  encircled  the  bay  window.  Her  light  brown 
hair,  which  had  broken  loose  from  the  confinement 
of  her  silken  headgear,  flowed  in  redundant  waves 
over  the  voluptuous  outline  of  her  shoulders,  trail 
ing  down  even  to  the  ground.  Her  features  were, 
of  course,  concealed;  but  the  large  pearly  tears, 
forcing  their  way  one  by  one  between  her  fingers, 
had  already  left  a  visible  trace  of  moisture  on  the 
damask  cushions,  while  the  convulsive  starts  that 
agitated  her  entire  frame  told  even  more  the  depth 
and  anguish  of  her  sorrow  than  all  her  weeping. 

"  Sibyl,"  he  whispered,  stealing  with  noiseless 
steps  over  the  three-piled  Persian  carpet  till  he 
was  close  beside  her;  "my  own — own  Sibyl!" 
there  was  a  deep  fond  pathos  in  his  musical  ac 
cents  which  no  description  could  express — a  liquid, 
melancholy  tenderness,  that  sank  directly  to  the 


106  CROMWELL. 

heart ;  ft  My  own — own  Sibyl."  And  with  the 
most  respectful  delicacy  he  lifted  her  from  her 
recumbent  attitude ;  "  and  weeping  too  for  me  ! 
but  weep  no  longer,  dearest  one — I  come — I 
come !  Oh  grant  it,  God,  that  it  may  be  so — to 
wipe  those  tears  away — to  make  you  mine — for 
ever !" 

She  gazed  upon  him  for  a  second's  space, 
wildly — -distrustfully — then,  as  she  perceived  his 
earnest  air,  and  marked  the  hope  that  kindled  in 
his  smile — then  brighter  thoughts  prevailed ;  and 
with  the  sudden  strange  revulsion,  abandoning 
herself  to  the  full  tide  of  her  warm,  passionate 
feelings,  she  sank  half  fainting  on  the  bosom  of 
her  lover. 

"  Oh  grant  it,  Father  of  all  mercies — grant  it, 
that  this  too  mighty  treasure  shall  indeed  be 
mine  !"  he  murmured  fervently,  as  he  supported 
her,  and  with  considerate  expressions  of  calm 
fondness  recalled  her  gradually  to  her  self-posses 
sion,  suppressing  every  sentiment  that  might  em 
barrass  her  returning  consciousness — that  might  in 
any  wise  offend  or  agitate  her  girlish  sensibilities  ; 
holding  her  hand  in  his  the  while,  but  with  a  quiet, 
unimpassioned  pressure,  liker  to  the  expression  of 
a  kind  brother's  love  than  to  the  rapturous  devo 
tion  of  a  youthful  suiter;  soothing  her  with  the 
gentlest  tones  of  his  familiar  voice,  till  she  was  at 
the  least  sufficiently  composed  to  listen* to  his  self- 
restrained  and  self-accusing  pleadings. 

"  Sibyl,"  he  said  at  length,  as  her  deeply-drawn 
sighs  subsided,  and  her  tears  ceased  to  flow  in 
such  unnatural  profusion  ;  "  Sibyl — dear  cousin  ; 
soon — soon,  I  trust,  to  be  addressed  by  a  far  dearer 
title,  I  have  much — much  that  I  would  say  to  you 
before  I  go  from  hence,  never  unless  at  your  per 
mission  to  return  ! — much  from  my  father — for 


CROMWELL.  107 

myself  yet  more  ! — Dry  your  tears,  dearest,  dry 
them,  I  beseech  you — it  is  agony  to  me  to  look  on 
them ! — dry  them,  and  listen  to  me,  that  we  may, 
if  it  be  Heaven's  pleasure,  be  happy  as  the  happi 
est  of  earth's  inhabitants." 

"  Say  on,"  she  difficultly  faltered  forth  the  words, 
"  say  on,  dear  Edgar — with  my  whole  soul  I  do 
attend  you." 

"  Not  here,"  he  answered,  "  not  here,  sweet  one 
— and  not  yet !  But  do  your  mantle  on,  and  walk 
forth  with  me  for  a  little  space.  You  are  too 
greatly  agitated  yet,  calmly  to  hear,  and  freely  to 
decide  on  that,  which,  for  your  happiness' — for  your 
life's — sake,  you  must  consider  warily  and  well ! 
The  pleasant  sunshine,  the  fresh  grateful  air,  and, 
above  all,  the  peaceful  and  quiescent  scenery,  will 
tranquillize  your  mind.  Moreover,  I  would  not 
that  this  sun  should  set  unwitnessed  by  us  twain 
together.  You  will  go  forth,  then,  dearest — will 
you  not,  Sibyl  ?" 

A  smile,  exquisitely  sweet,  glancing  from  out 
her  tears,  was  her  sole  token  of  assent,  as  she  dis 
engaged  herself  half  blushingly  from  his  supporting 
arms,  and,  gathering  her  dishevelled  tresses,  folded 
them  simply,  but  in  the  most  perfect  taste,  around 
her  classically  moulded  temples. 

"  Wait  for  me  in  the  vestibule,"  she  said — "  I 
will  be  there  ere  you  shall  have  the  time  to  miss 
me ;"  and  vanished  from  the  room,  leaving  a  stronger 
hope  in  Ardenne's  breast  than  he  had  entertained 
for  many  a  day.  He  was  assured  in  his  own  mind, 
beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt,  that  she  had 
marked  the  secret  conflict  of  his  soul,  that  she  had 
penetrated  his  sole  mystery,  and  was  aware  already 
of  his  apprehensions,  as  to  the  part  which  it  might 
ere  long  be  his  duty  to  sustain,  whether  it  should 
lie  in  the  grave  and  subtle  forum,  or  in  the  lament- 


108  CROMWELL. 

able  field  of  civil  strife ;  and  he  now  listened  to 
the  flattering  voice  within,  which  whispered  that  it 
might  well  be,  a  maiden  so  affectionate,  so  warm, 
and,  above  all,  so  deeply  and  devotedly  attached, 
would  overlook  the  difference  in  their  political 
creeds,  as  counterbalanced,  rendered  nugatory,  and 
a  thing  of  naught,  by  their  entire  harmony  of  soul 
on  every  other  subject.  It  might  well  be.  that  one 
so  strong  herself  in  principles  of  honour  and  integ 
rity,  would  find  more  to  admire  in  the  inflexible 
and  stern  uprightness  which  will  not  sacrifice  one 
particle  of  conscience — one  straw's  bulk  of  that 
which  it  considers  duty — before  the  shrine  of  its 
most  intimate  and  near  affections,  than  to  rebuke 
or  reprobate  in  the  opinions  or  the  principles  on 
which  that  duty  hinges.  But  he  had  not  long  time 
to  wraste  in  thought  or  speculation ;  for,  as  he 
reached  the  entrance  of  the  hall,  the  form  he  loved 
so  well  to  look  upon  came  gliding  down  the  stair 
case,  wrapped  in  her  walking-robe — fitted  above  the 
waist  with  accurate  precision  to  the  mould  of  her 
unrivalled  shape,  but  full  below  and  flowing — of 
dark  velvet,  furred  at  the  cape  and  cuffs  with  the 
most  costly  minever ;  and  wearing  on  her  head  a 
cap  of  ermine,  its  silken  crown  and  lining  protru 
ding  from  above  the  border  of  deep  fur,  and  hanging 
gracefully  down,  with  a  white  ostrich-feather  droop 
ing  over  it,  so  as  to  flush  one  delicate  cheek  more 
warmly  than  its  sister  with  a  teint  borrowed  from 
its  own  bright  crimson.  With  a  passionate  and 
fitful  light,  far  different  from  the  calmness  of  their 
wonted  radiance,  the  eyes  of  Edgar  dwelt  upon 
the  finely-modelled  person,  and  the  features,  not 
the  less  exquisitely  fair  that  they  now  wore  a  mel 
ancholy,  downcast  aspect,  of  her,  on  whose  accept 
ance  or  denial  of  his  present  suit  his  all  of  hope 
was  fearfully  suspended.  So  long,  indeed,  and 


CROMWELL.  109 

evident  was  that  fixed  gaze  of  admiration,  and  so 
much  was  she  pained  by  its  expression,  that  the 
bashful  hlood  rushed  like  a  torrent  to  brow,  cheek, 
and  neck,  with  blushes  scarcely  natural,  so  vivid 
was  their  hectic  colour.  Perceiving  instantly  the 
cause  of  her  confusion,  with  an  air  of  deep  humility 
he  lowered  his  offending  eyes,  and,  as  he  took  her 
hand  to  lead  her  forth,  "  Pardon,"  he  whispered,  in 
low,  reverential  tones — "  pardon  me,  gentle  cousin, 
my  most  unwitting  and  involuntary  fault ! — if  fault 
it  be — "  he  added,  with  a  voice  that  faltered,  and 
then  abruptly  paused,  as  if  he  were  unable  to  com 
plete  the  sentence.  A  quiet  pressure  of  the  fingers 
that  yet  lingered  in  his  tender  grasp,  replied  at 
once,  and  reassured  him  ;  and  in  the  silence  caused 
by  feelings  or  by  thoughts  too  powerful  for  utter 
ance — how  widely  different  from  that  of  apathy  or 
dulness ! — they  for  the  last  time  wandered  forth 
into  the  pleasant  solitudes  of  the  broad  sylvan 
chase. 

Throughout  the  greater  part  of  its  extent,  this 
ornamented  tract,  although  diversified  enough  by 
change  of  dale  and  upland  to  redeem  its  beauties 
from  the  charge  of  lameness  or  monotony,  was 
rather  of  a  level  than  a  broken  character ;  its 
charms  were  chiefly  of  that  tranquil  and  composing 
cast  which  is  found  rather  in  expanses  of  deep 
meadow-land,  carpeted  by  a  sward  so  fresh  and  so 
luxuriant  as  to  lose  little  of  its  verdure  even  in  the 
dead  months  of  winter — in  the  massive  foliage 
of  the  scattered  clumps,  or  more  continuous  groves 
of  stately  timber-trees — and  in  the  sheets  of  limpid 
but  unrippled  water,  than  in  the  features  of  a  sce 
nery,  which,  if  more  romantic,  is  far  less  alluring; 
if  more  enchanting  to  the  first  astonished  glance, 
bears  not  so  well  the  test  of  daily  and  familiar  ob 
servation.  Towards  its  northern  and  northwestern 

VOL.  L— K 


110  CROMWELL. 

boundaries,  however,  the  ground  was  swelling  and 
uneven  ;  the  hills  heaved  up  more  boldly  from  the 
valleys,  which  were  in  places  so  abrupt  and  narrow 
as  almost  to  deserve  the  name  of  glens,  or  dingles, 
and  often  wore  a  coronet  of  gray  and  rifted  sand 
stone  above  the  purple  heather,  that  clothed  their 
flanks  with  a  dark  russet  mantle  wheresoever  the 
soil  was  too  poor  or  too  shallow  to  support  the 
taller  growth  of  hazel,  birch,  and  mountain  ash, 
which  clustered  round  their  bases,  or  straggled  up 
their  sides  where  any  casual  streamlet  had  worn  a 
channel  to  protect  them  from  the  western  gales, 
and  afforded  by  its  waters  a  grateful  although 
scanty  nutriment  to  their  dwarfed  and  thirsty  roots. 
Imbosomed  in  these  rugged  eminences,  at  a  short 
mile's  distance  from  the  manor,  there  lay  a  Hub 
tarn  or  mountain  lake,  scarce  rarger  than  an  arti 
ficial  pool,  but  so  deep  that  its  glassy  waters  shone 
black  as  polished  jet  even  beneath  the  azure  skies 
of  June.  Narrow,  however,  as  it  was,  it  yet  could 
boast  its  islets — two,  fringed  from  the  water's  edge 
with  tangled  underwood,  above  which  waved  some 
three  or  four  tall  trees ;  the  third,  a  bold  and 
barren  rock,  whereon  some  feudal  ancestor 'had 
perched  his  solitary  fastness,  dismantled  now  and 
roofless.  On  every  side  but  one  the  hills  sank 
steeply  down  to  the  lake's  brink,  leaving  no  space 
for  the  adventurous  foot  of  man,  feathered  with 
coppice  springing  from  every  rift  or  crevice  of  their 
rocky  sides ;  but  on  that  one  a  turfy  glade  sloped 
gently  to  the  marge,  where  it  was  bordered  by  a 
stripe  of  silver  sand,  which  formed  a  bright  and 
sunny  frame  to  the  dark  mirror  it  enclosed.  Just 
where  the  turf  and  sand  united,  a  single  and  gigan 
tic  oak,  known  as  the  "friar's  tree"  for  miles 
around,  reared  its  short  massive  trunk,  garnished 
with  limbs  as  tortuous  and  forked  as  the  antlers  of 


CROMWELL.  Ill 

the  wild  herds  that  loved  to  rub  their  budding  horns 
against  it  in  the  early  springtide  ;  but  supporting, 
even  in  the  flush  of  summer,  only  a  sparse  and 
scanty  garland  of  green  leaves,  which  rustled  now, 
all  sere  and  yellow,  in  the  melancholy  breath  of 
autumn.  Immediately  beneath  the  shadow  of  this 
forest  patriarch,  and  partly  overlapped  by  the  en 
croachment  of  its  twisted  roots,  lay  a  huge  block 
of  deep-red  freestone,  bearing  the  marks  of  rude 
and  half-obliterated  sculptures,  in  which  some  vil 
lage  antiquarian  had  traced  or  fancied  a  resem 
blance  to  a  cowled  and  sandalled  figure,  whence 
the  prevailing  appellation  of  the  tree ;  which,  an 
cient  as  that  relic  evidently  seemed,  had  probably 
been  in  its  prime  already  when  there  it  had  been 
placed — placed  only  to  survive  the  memory  of  the 
event  or  actor  it  had  fondly  been  intended  to  im 
mortalize.  It  might  have  been  the  cover  of  a  tomb 
— it  might  have  been  a  monument  designed  to  cele 
brate  some  great  or  wonderful  achievement — but, 
whatever  was  its  pristine  use  or  destination,  it 
afforded  now  a  pleasant  seat,  cushioned  with  soft 
luxurious  mosses,  and  sheltered  equally  from  sum 
mer  heat  and  wintry  gales  by  the  huge  stem  and 
gnarled  boughs  that  overhung  it.  A  lovely  and 
romantic  spot  this  was — so  still,  so  lonely,  so  se 
questered  from  the  eye  by  intervening  thickets, 
that,  although  situate  at  scarce  a  bowshot  from  the 
most  frequented  walks,  it  yet  was  rarely  visited  but 
by  some  passing  forester,  or  some  true  lover  of  the 
undecorated  face  of  nature.  For  this  cause,  per 
haps,  it  had  ever  been  a  favourite  haunt  of  Sibyl, 
who,  when  a  fairy  maiden  of  fifteen,  was  wont  to 
resort  thither  with  book,  lute,  or  pencil,  as  the 
fancy  of  the  moment  prompted,  and  for  no  other 
reason  had  it  been  the  usual  termination  of  her 
young  wooer's  wanderings.  What  was  the  aim  of 


112  CROMWELL. 

Edgar  in  choosing  this  fair  solitude  to  be  the  scene 
of  that  most  sacred  audiepce  which  he  had  come 
forth  to  demand,  he  could  not  have,  perhaps,  him 
self  explained.  It  might  be  he  had  formed  some 
half-confessed  and  indistinct  idea,  that  here,  in  the 
familiar  trysting-place — the  home  of  so  sweet  rec 
ollections,  the  shrine  of  so  innumerable  hopes — 
she  would  "  lean  to  the  soft  side  of  the  heart" — would 
be  more  liable  to  yield  herself  to  fond  and  pas 
sionate  impressions,  than  to  weigh  matters  with  an 
equable,  calm  scrutiny.  It  might  be  that  habit 
merely,  and  the  trick  of  old  association,  had  con 
ducted  his  feet  thither,  while  the  mind  was  far  re 
moved  from  thought  of  time  or  place ;  or  it  might 
be  that,  wise  and  philosophic  as  his  spirit  was,  there 
yet  lay  dubiously  concealed  within  it  one  of  those 
strange  superstitious  touches — those  creeds  of  the 
heart,  not  of  the  judgment — from  which  the  bosoms 
of  so  few,  even  the  coolest  and  most  stern  inqui 
rers,  can  altogether  wean  themselves — one  of  those 
fancies  which  we  all  at  times  have  felt,  that  some 
peculiar  spot,  or  hour,  or  person,  is  secretly  con 
nected  with  the  clew  and  crisis  of  our  destiny — is, 
as  it  were,  the  hinge  whereon  the  portals  of  our 
fortune  turn,  opening  to  our  steps  the  unknown 
paths  of  future  good  or  evil.  Whatever  were  his 
thoughts,  however,  during  their  silent  progress  to 
the  friar's  tree,  scarcely  had  he  placed  her  on  the 
monumental  stone,  and  stretched  himself  before  her 
on  the  dry  white  sand,  ere  he  poured  forth,  in  a 
voice  of  so  sweet  harmony  as  might  have  well  be 
guiled  the  ear  and  won  the  heart  of  the  most  deter 
mined  votary  of  celibacy,  a  tide  of  language  fraught 
with  such  eloquence,  and  yet  so  practical  in  mean 
ing — so  deep  in  sentiment,  and  yet  so  pointed  in 
expression — that  few  lips,  perhaps,  but  his,  could 
have  delivered  it,  without  incurring  some  reproach 


CROMWELL.  H3 

of  studied  insincerity,  or  awakening  some  feeling 
of  distrust.  He  told  her  of  his  hopes,  his  doubts, 
his  terrors — he  told  her  how  a  cloud,  he  knew  not 
wherefore,  had  overshadowed  his  horizon,  chilling, 
as  it  were,  the  very  sources  of  his  most  permanent 
and  warm  affections  ;  he  told  her  how  he  valued 
her  the  most  of  all  things  earthly — the  most  of  all 
things,  save  his  God,  his  country,  and  his  honour ! 
How  to  him  her  wedded  love  would  be  indeed  the 
all  in  all — capable  of  making  that  which  else  were 
misery  the  highest  and  most  pure  enjoyment ; — 
how,  to  win  it,  he  would  lay  down  willingly  rank, 
name,  fame,  fortune,  every  thing  save  virtue  !  He 
told  her  that,  without  that  crowning  gift,  he  should, 
though  wealthier  than  the  wealthiest,  bear  but  a 
beggared  heart — though  girt  with  myriad  friends, 
be  desolate  and  lonely — though  dwelling  in  his 
very  birthplace,  be  a  divorced  and  home-sick 
exile  !  He  told  her  of  the  violent  and  ceaseless 
strife  between  his  passion  and  his  conscience — of 
his  profound  devotion  to  herself,  battling  and 
scarcely  to  be  overcome  by  his  more  deep  devotion 
to  his  country's  weal.  "  It  may  be,"  he  continued 
— "  it  may  be  that  I  am  but  a  timorous  dreamer — 
but  a  trembling  visionary,  shaking  at  causeless  and 
unreal  terrors.  It  may  be  that  the  trials,  which  I 
shudder  merely  at  foreseeing,  shall  never  come  to 
the  proof;  but  this  is  what  I.  dread — and  what, 
though  dreading,  I  may  not,  'if  it  come  to  pass, 
avoid  or  shrink  from,  even  to  win  what  were  to  me 
a  thousand  times  more  dear  than  life — the  miser 
ies  of  intestine  war  let  loose  to  devastate  our  smi 
ling  country  ! — a  wild  and  bloody  strife,  dividing 
brother  against  brother,  sire  against  son,  husband 
— sweet  Sibyl — husband  against  wife  ! — A  strife 
between  a  king  determined  to  be  absolute,  a  people 
to  be  free  !  If  these  things  come  to  pass — though 
K2 


114  CROMWELL. 

my  life  be  barren,  and  my  deathbed  deserted — 
yea,  though  my  heart  be  Broken  in  the  conflict — 
yet  must  I  be  for  ever  the  sworn  soldier  of  my 
country's  freedom.  It  may  however  be — Heaven 
grant  it  so ! — that  I  do  falsely  calculate  the  signs 
of  corning  wrath  ;  it  may  moreover  be,  that,  as  I 
am,  so  are  you  a  friend  to  liberty  and  justice,  more 
than  a  worshipper  of  kings  !  and,  if  so,  all  shall 
yet  be  well.  My  father,  Sibyl,  my  old,  kind  father, 
hath  proffered  freely  his  consent — hath  urged  me 
to  obtain  your  promise,  that  you  will  be  my  own 
before  this  coming  winter  shall  have  made  way  for 
spring  flowers — hath  implored  me  '  that  he  may  see 
us  happy — such  is  his  only  wish  this  side  eternity 
— before  he  go  to  his  long  home  !'  Be  mine,  then, 
Sibyl — oh  be  mine,  ere  the  fierce  storm  *>f  -war 
shall  burst,  which  may  divide  us,  and  for  ever — 
be  mine  to  cheer,  to  guide,  to  comfort,  and  to  bless 
— be  mine  for  weal  and  wo — for  time  and  for 
eternity !" 

While  he  had  spoken,  though  her  lips  quivered 
often,  and  parted  more  than  once,  as  if  she  would 
have  interrupted  him — though  her  colour  went  and 
came  in  brief  and  fitful  flashes — the  lovely  girl  had 
never  once  withdrawn  her  eyes  from  his  pale  face — 
pale  with  the  struggle  of  contending  passions — nor 
yet  relaxed  her  pressure  of  his  cold  damp  hand ; 
and,  as  he  paused  from  his  deep-souled  and  eager 
pleading,  she  replied  at  once,  though  her  voice  fal 
tered,  and  the  big  tears  slid  down  her  cheeks. 

"  It  is,  then,"  she  said,  "  it  is,  then,  as  I  dreaded  ! 
and  our  young  hopes  have  been  but  as  a  morning 
vision !  Oh,  Edgar,  Edgar — I  have  thought,  I 
have  hoped,  I  have  prayed  that  these  things  might 
not  be,  and  yet  too — oh,  too  surely — have  I  known 
they  must !"  and  she  hurried  onward  with  her 
speech,  as  if  she  feared  that  she  should  lack  the 

. 


CROMWELL.  115 

strength  to  act  up  to  her  resolution.  "  Men  will 
say,"  she  went  on,  with  increasing  passion — "  men 
will  say,  and  say  truly — but  J  care  not — that  it  is 
unmaidenly  in  me  to  speak  in  words  how  madly, 
how  devotedly  I  love  you.  My  hope  of  hopes 
has  been — you  cannot  doubt  it,  Edgar,  no  !  no  ! 
you  cannot — to  know  myself  your  wife  ;  and  now 
my  hopes  are  anguish  and  despair.  But  think  not 
that  I  blame  you — that  I  love  you,  honour  you, 
adore  you,  one  thousandth  part  the  less — when  I 
say — God  grant  me  strength  to  bear  it — when  I 
say,  that  we  can  never — never  now — be  one. 
Your  father  has  to  me  been  as — nay,  more — more 
father.  To  his  heart  your  defection — such 
and  feel  it — your  defection  from  the 

ur  high  race  will  strike  a  wound,  that 

but  JI^Hfrier  blow  could  aggravate  or  deepen. 
Were  ^^  fall  off  likewise,  he  would  die,  Edgar  ; 
die,  and  leave  to  us  his  sole  bequest — a  father's 
malison.  No,  no !  I  must  stay  with  him — must 
console  the  old  man  in  his  barren  and  unfriended 
sorrows  ;  must  sooth  his  cares,  and  turn  aside  his 
anger,  lest  it  wax  hotter  and  more  deadly  than 
you,  you,  Edgar,  shall  be  able  to  endure.  Nor  is 
this  all.  I  am  a  poor,  weak  girl — a  frail,  confiding 
creature,  of  a  sex  whose  duty  and  whose  nature  is 
obedience — obedience  to  our  king,  our  husband, 
our  God !  I  argue  not ! — I  hope  not,  fancy  not, 
that  I  can  change  your  judgment,  founded,  as  it 
must  be,  on  firm  conviction ;  nor  would  I  change 
it  if  I  could  !  That  which  in  women  is  nature, 
virtue,  may  well  in  men  be  cowardice  and  crime  ! 
Your  intellect  is  strong,  and  wise,  and  wonderful 
— mine  womanish  and  weak  !  Nor  should  I  love 
and  venerate  you  as  I  do,  could  you  surrender  up 
your  wisdom  at  the  bidding  of  my  weakness. 
Then,  as  I  respect  your  scruples,  respect  mine 


116  CROMWELL. 

also.  The  sapling  bends,  indeed,  to  the  wild  blast 
that  bows  it ;  but,  when  the  hurricane  is  overpast, 
it  stands  no  less  erect  than  the  proud  oak  that 
yielded  not  an  inch  to  the  storm's  fury.  I  in  my 
weakness — you  in  your  strength — we  are  alike  im- 
moveable.  Yours  1  can  not  be  now — may  not  be 
ever  !  But  of  this  be  certain — wedded  or  single, 
royalist  or  republican,  living  or  in  death,  you  only 
shall  I  lov.e,  you  only  honour — honour  and  love 
more  deeply,  that  I  know  you  greater  in  adherence 
to  that  which  I  must  deem  fancied  and  erroneous 
duty,  than  did  you  think  as  I.  There  is  one  hope 
for  us  !  Edgar,  my  Edgar,  one  !  If  this  wild 
storm  pass  by — if  the  green  homes  of  England 
unstained  with  native  blood — and  how. 
vently  than  ever  shall  I  now  pray  the] 
may  we  yet  be  happy." 

The  blood  rushed  coldly  to  his  h^Hlas  he 
heard  her  out,  nor,  though  he  had  expected  every 
word  she  uttered,  was  the  shock  less  stunning  or 
the  anguish  lighter  than  if  the  stroke  had  fallen  on 
him  unaware.  Too  well,  however,  did  he  know, 
and  too  entirely  respect,  the  principles  which 
doomed  him  to  eternal  and  unutterable  sorrow,  to 
speak  one  syllable  in  answer  or  entreaty.  "  One 
kiss,"  he  murmured,  through  his  set  teeth — "  one 
last  kiss,  my  own  lost  Sibyl."  And  she  fell  upon 
his  bosom  unresisting,  and  her  white  arms  were 
twined  about  his  neck  with  a  convulsive  clasp, 
and  their  cold  lips  mingled  in  a  long  embrace  that 
had  no  taste  of  passion  or  of  pleasure,  and  their 
tears  flowed  together  in  that  gush  of  unchecked 
misery. 

Before  an  hour  elapsed  Ardenne  had  left  the 
mansion  of  his  fathers.  The  old  knight  wondered, 
and  was  grieved,  but  silent;  he  saw,  at  an  eye's 
glance,  that  his  own  hopes — his  first-born's  happi- 


CROMWELL. 


ness—  had  been  dashed  rudely  down  ;  but,  to  ima 
gine  wherefore,  conjecture  was  itself  at  fault. 
wept  upon  his  neck,  blessed  him,  and  sent  him 
forth  !  A  pale  form,  indistinctly  seen  through  the 
fast  gathering  twilight,  stood  in  the  oriel  window 
as  Edo-ar  slowly  mounted—  but  the  burst  of  ago- 
mang  sobs  that  followed  his  departure  was  dis 
tinctly  audible.  Enough!  Timanthes  veiled  the 
face  on  which  the  extremity  of  sorrow  was  en 
graved  in  characters  so  fearful  as  to  deiy  the 
utmost  skill  of  human  portraiture. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

This  is  true  liberty,  when  freeborn  men, 
Having  to  advise  the  public,  may  speak  free, 
Which  he  who  can,  and  will,  deserves  high  praise 
Who  neither  can,  nor  will,  may  hold  his  peace  ; 
What  can  be  juster  in  a  state  than  this  f 


IT  was  a  dark  and  gloomy  afternoon  in  the  latter 
days  of  November,  when  Ardenne,  having  already 
gone  through  all  the  necessary  steps  preliminary 
to  his  entering  on  his  novel  duties,  and  having  de 
voted  a  few  days  to  renewing  ancient  intimacies, 
or  forming  neW  relations,  with  some  of  the  most 
leading  men  of  either  party,  took  his  way  for  the 
first  time  toward  the  honoured   precincts  of  bt. 
Stephens,  around  the  walls  of  which-now,  alas! 
levelled  to  the  ground  for  ever-the  collective  elo 
quence  of  ages  had  shed  even  then  a  halo  of  more 
than  mortal  glory.     The  house  had  been   some 
time  in  session  when  he  entered,  and,  to  his  al 
most  irrepressible  surprise,  in  passing  to  his  seat, 


118  CROMWELL. 

the  object  that  first  met  his  eye  was  the  ungainly 
figure  of  the  stranger  who  had  succoured  him  near 
Royston,  habited,  as  heretofore  described,  in  gar 
ments  coarse,  unseemly,  and  ill-made,  standing  be 
side  the  table,  which  at  times  he  violently  struck 
with  his  clinched  hand,  and  speaking  in  a  sharp, 
croaking  voice,  against  delay  in  the  discussion  of 
some  motion  then  before  the  house.  It  did  not 
seem  to  Edgar,  as  he  looked  hastily  around  him, 
that  the  members  listened  with  much  attention  to 
the  fiery  but  somewhat  involved  declamations  of 
this  worthy;  but,  after  a  few  moments1  survey,  his 
notice  was  attracted  by  the  bent  brows  and  com 
pressed  lips  of  a  considerable  number — gravely- ._ 
attired  and  stern-looking  men,  who  sat  ar^^^mM 
from  those  who  were  completely  r<fcoL 
favourers  of  sweeping  measures  of  rMgjjff  and 
ever  and  anon  responded  to  the  sentu^Pits  ex 
pressed  by  the  speaker  with  a  deep  hum  or  sullen 
cheer  of  approbation.  He  could  see,  too,  that 
Hampden,  with  whom  he  had  advanced  already 
beyond  the  earliest  steps  of  friendly  intercourse, 
was  not  inattentive  to  the  words  of  this  strange- 
looking  personage ;  although  at  times  a  smile 
would  flit  across  his  comely  features  at  some  wild, 
undigested  thought,  or  strong  denunciation  fiercely 
disproportionate  to  that  against  which  it  was  lev 
elled.  He  had  not,  however,  much  space  for  ob 
servation,  since  the  orator,  who,  it  seemed,  had 
wellnigh  finished  his  harangue  ere  he  came  into 
the  assembly,  now  resumed  his  seat ;  and  was  at 
once  succeeded  by  a  youthful  gentleman,  whom 
Edgar  recognised  for  Lucius  Carey,  Viscount 
Falkland,  of  an  exterior  so  prepossessing,  that  in 
another  man  it  would  have  been  the  principal  at 
traction,  though  in  this  instance  it  was  but  the 
goodly  shrine  of  a  surpassing  soul.  His  form  was 


CROMWELL.  119 

F 

slight,  but  elegantly  framed — his  countenance,  of 
singular  and  softened  beauty,  had  for  its  most  ob 
vious  traits  a  low,  fair  forehead,  from  which  the 
waves  of  his  light  brown  or  almost  flaxen  hair  hung 
down  in  natural  curls  below  his  cheeks — a  full 
blue  eye,  well  opened  and  expressive — a  bright 
complexion — and  a  lip,  rich,  ripe,  and  wooing  as  a 
woman's.  He  was  clad  handsomely,  in  doublet, 
short  trunk  hose,  and  cloak  of  dark  blue  velvet 
slashed  and  lined  with  rich  white  taffeta,  and  was 
in  all  respects  a  person  whose  appearance  would 
denote  a  man  of  birth  and  bearing.  His  voice,  as 
he  began  to  speak,  was  sweet  and  tunable,  and,  al 
though  weak  at  first,  increased  in  energy  and 
tftj^y^^Mie  proceeded,  till  Ardenne  felt  that  he 
hk?>«L»lifcver  '^jstened  heretofore  to  any  one  combi 
ning  TTBf-s0^eminent  a  degree  persuasiveness  and 
strengtVrif  language.  From  the  Lord  Falkland's 
words  he  quickly  gathered  that  the  measure  under 
consideration  was  no  other  than  the  famous  and 
much  contested  bill  of  general  remonstrance,  which, 
it  appeared,  had  been  at  this  late  hour  brought  for 
ward  by  the  opposition  party,  when  the  morning 
had  been  wasted  in  minor  and  unprofitable  ques 
tions,  with  the  hope  of  smuggling  it,  as  it  were, 
through  the  house,  during  the  absence  of  many,  its 
most  known  opponents.  The  speech  of  the  young 
nobleman  was  luminous,  though  brief;  and  touch 
ing  in  no  respect  on  the  principles  or  object  of  the 
bill,  went  clearly  and  directly  to  the  point,  assert 
ing  that  it  should  not,  at  that  irregular  and  most 
indecent  hour,  be  forced  upon  the  assembly,  un 
prepared,  at  least,  if  not  reluctant  to  consider  it. 
Loudly  applauded  by  the  moderate  party,  as  well 
as  by  the  open  antagonists  of  the  measure,  through 
out  the  whole  of  his  speech ;  and  not  less  warmly, 
though  more  sparingly,  at  times  by  its  impartial 


120  CROMWELL. 

and  sincere  espousers — Hampden,  and  Pym,  and 
Hollis — he  concluded  with  a  motion  that  the  house 
should  presently  adjourn,  and  that  this  question 
"  should  be  entered  upon  the  next  morning  at  nine 
of  the  clock,  and  every  clause  debated,  the  speaker 
in  the  chair."  As  he  sat  down,  a  dozen  members 
rose  at  once  on  opposite  sides,  and  for  some  min 
utes  all  was  clamour  and  confusion,  trampling  of 
feet,  loud  cries  of  "  Question  !"  "  Order  !"  and  "  Go 
on  !"  mixed  with  vociferated  names  of  favourite 
orators,  called  on  to  utter  their  opinions.  At  length, 
however,  Lenthal,  the  speaker  of  the  house,  with 
his  clear,  sonorous  voice,  enforced  obedience  to  the 
chair,  and  quiet  was  again  restored.  Lord  Falk 
land's  motion  instantly  was  seconded 
in  a  few  words,  forcibly  but  simply  ui 
cessity  that  this  great  question  should 
cussed  and  openly,  by  all  who  might  decl^to  take 
a  part  therein.  The  house  was  cleared  for  ques 
tion,  and  the  adjournment  carried  with  few  dissent 
ing  voices.  There  was  but  little  tarrying  within 
the  body  of  the  house ;  but,  as  they  passed  into  the 
lobby  and  down  the  parliament  stairs,  men  fell  into 
little  knots  of  two  or  three,  discoursing,  some  on 
the  occurrences  of  the  discussion  just  concluded, 
and  some  on  matters  of  more  general  and  varied 
interest.  It  was  at  this  moment,  just  as  Edgar  fell 
into  a  group  in  which  he  had  observed  the  figures 
of  Hyde — in  after  days  more  celebrated  as  Lord 
Clarendon  and  Chancellor  of  England — St.  John, 
Lord  Digby,  Colepepper,  and  Hampden,  all  spirits 
in  some  sort  congenial  to  each  other ;  all  being 
favourers,  ostensibly  at  least,  though  differing  in 
mode  and  measure,  of  reform,  both  in  the  church 
and  state — that  the  orator,  whom  he  had  judged  at 
the  first  sight  to  be  Lord  Falkland,  passed  by  so 
closely  as  almost  to  brush  his  person  with  his 


CROMWELL.  121 

cloak,  deeply  engaged  in  conversation  with  his 
mysterious  fellow-traveller.  This  latter  cast  a 
glance  of  recognition  toward  him,  accompanied  by 
a  short,  unceremonious  nod,  though  without  making 
any  pause,  or  breaking  off  in  his  discourse,  which 
he  continued  in  such  tones  as  reached  the  ears  of 
Ardenne. 

"But  verily,"  he  said,  "but  verily,  I  see  not 
wherefore  you  would  have  it  thus  put  off — for  this 
day  would  right  quickly  have  decided  it." 

"  There  would  not  have  been  time  enough," 
replied  the  other,  shortly ;  "  for  it  would  sure  take 
some  debate." 

"  A  very  sorry  one  !  a  very  sorry  one,  my  lord, 
if  any,"  answered  the  puritan,  who  was  already 
p^ssiAo^iit  of  sight,  when  Edgar  touched  the 
shoula8j|cT  John  Hampden,  whom  he  had  pre 
viously  addressed.  "  I  pray  you,  of  your  courtesy," 
he  whispered,  "  Master  Hampden ;  I  pray  you, 
tell  me,  who  is  yon  slovenly  and  clownish-looking 
man  in  converse  with  my  lord  of  Falkland  ?  for  I 
do  see  he  is  on  your  side,  by  his  warm  speech 
to-day." 

"  That  sloven,"*  answered  Hampden — and,  in 
after  days,  when  the  undaunted  breast  of  him  who 
spoke  was  mouldering  in  its  bloody  cerements,  not 
the  least  noble  victim  of  that  lamentable  strife,  his 
auditor  remembered  those  prophetic  words — 
"  whom  you  see  before  you,  hath  no  ornament  in 
his  speech.  That  sloven,  I  say,  if  we  should  ever 
come  to  a  breach  with  the  king,  which  God  forbid  ! 
in  such  a  case,  I  say,  that  sloven  will  be  the  great 
est  man  in  England." 


*  This  very  remarkable  and  prophetic  speech  was  actually  uttered 
by  Hampden,  in  reply  to  the  question,  as  given  above,  of  Lord  Digby, 
in  the  first  year  of  the  Long  Parliament ;  i.e.,  at  a  date  a  little  earlier 
than  that  assigned  to  it  in  the  test. 

VOL.  I.— L 


122  CROMWELL. 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Ardenne,  thoughtfully,  "  indeed  ! 
I  had  not  thought  of  him  so  highly.  And  yet,  I  do 
believe,  nay,  J  am  well  assured,  I  have  encoun 
tered  him  before.  His  name — " 

"  His  name  is  Cromwell,"  replied  the  patriot ; 
"Oliver  Cromwell — member  now  for  the  good 
town  of  Cambridge,  and  little  known  as  yet,  or  lis 
tened  to,  save  by  a  few  austere  religionists;  yet 
of  great  parts !  unwearied  diligence — undaunted 
courage — penetration,  that  intuitively  reads  the 
wariest  hearts,  and  perseverance,  that  will  yield  to 
nothing  human  !  That  you  have  met  him  I  can 
well  believe — at  leastwise  he  doth  know,  and  reck 
ons  of  you  highly !  You  will  be  here  to-morrow, 
Master  Ardenne,"  he  continued,  after  a  momentary 
pause  ;  "  you  will  be  here  to-morrow — ^J^Mri^^  ^j 
I  trust !  If  we  should  lose  this  bill,  it  \*fl£  I  fear 
me  much,  go  hard  with  England's  liberties.1*' 

"  Here  I  shall  be,  past  question,"  answered  Ed 
gar.  "  I  scarce  should  hold  myself  an  honest 
man  were  I  to  quit  my  station  in  the  crisis  of  the 
storm ;  although,"  he  continued,  with  a  smile,  "  al 
though  that  station  be  a  new  one,  and  its  occupant 
but  strange  and  inexperienced.  Here  shall  I  be, 
but  more  you  must  not  ask  of  me.  How  I  shall 
vote,  or  if  indeed  at  all,  till  I  have  heard  both  rea 
sons  and  objections,  I  may  not  easily  decide. 
Wherefore,  good  Master  Hampden,  if  you  do  care, 
in  truth,  for  the  assistance  of  my  vote,  you  were 
best  call  to  aid  that  eloquence  and  depth  of  reason 
ing  whereof  I  hear  mtn  bear  such  testimony ;  and 
so  convince  me  that  my  country's  weal  requires  it 
at  my  hand  !  Give  you  good-night,  fair  gentle 
men,"  he  added,  with  a  courteous  motion  toward 
the  company ;  "  we  meet  again  to-morrow." 

"  If  you  be  not  in  more  than  common  haste," 
said  Hampden,  laying  a  slight  detention  on  his 


CROMWELL.  123 

arm  as  he  turned  round  to  leave  the  lobby,  "  I 
will  entreat  you  tarry,  while  I  speak  ten  words 
with  my  Lord  Digby.  Your  lodging  lies,  if  I, 
mistake  not,  this  side  Charing;  and  my  road  is 
the  same.  If  you  can  wait  on  me  five  minutes  at 
the  farthest,  I  will  rejoice  to  have  your  homeward 
company ;  and  will  upon  the  way,  I  do  assure  you, 
exert  what  reasons  I  possess  to  win  you  to  con 
viction." 

Ardenne  assented.  Nor  did  the  minutes  which 
elapsed  while  that  high-minded  patriot  remon 
strated — as  it  would  seem  by  his  quick,  energetic 
whispers — with  the  tergiversating  noble,  pass  heav 
ily,  as  he  conversed  with  the  distinguished  men 
who  seemed  to  give — desirous  each,  perhaps,  of 
winninfid^his  respective  faction  a  partisan  so  like 
to  provirTjf  weight  in  the  then  equally  poised  state 
of  parties — that  eager  and  respectful  heed  to  every 
word  he  uttered,  which  cannot  fail  to  please  the 
minds  even  of  those  the  least  accessible  to  ordi 
nary  adulation.  With  a  glance  pregnant  of  mean 
ing,  and  an  admonition  strongly  urged,  although  its 
import  could  not  be  distinguished  by  the  by-stand- 
ers,  Hampden  turned  from  Lord  Digby  and  an 
nounced  his  readiness  to  walk,  flinging  his  cloak 
in  several  folds  over  his  left  arm,  and  bringing 
round  his  rapier's  hilt  to  meet  his  grasp  if  needed 
— precautions  not  uncalled  for  in  those  times  of 
fierce  and  virulent  commotion. 

As  they  passed  down  the  stairs,  the  men  in 
waiting  recognised  their  masters,  and  fell  at  once 
into  their  places ;  two  moving  on  in  front  with 
lighted  links  or  flambeaux,  necessary  in  those  days, 
when  the  most  frequented  thoroughfares  of  the  me 
tropolis  could  boast  few  lamps  but  those  which 
graced  the  residence  of  some  great  noble — and 
two  stepping  along  three  paces  in  the  rear,  their 


124  CROMWELL. 

eyes  warily  moving  to  and  fro,  and  watching  with 
keen  scrutiny  the  air  of  every  passenger  who  met 
or  overtook  them ;  and  their  hands  in  frequent  con 
tact  with  the  pommels  of  their  swords.  For,  not 
withstanding  the  eulogium  passed  some  years  be 
fore  by  a  French  resident  of  high  distinction  on  the 
orderly  and  peaceful  regulation  of  the  English  capi 
tal,  in  honourable  contrast  to  the  debauched  and 
dangerous  turbulence  of  Paris,  party  spirit  at  this 
time  ran  to  such  a  height,  and  tumults  were  so  con 
stant  between  the  factions  recently  accommodated 
with  distinctive  titles  of  cavaliers  and  roundheads — 
tumults  in  which  much  blood  was  spilt  and  even 
some  lives  lost,  the  sturdy  citizens  resisting  with 
their  bats  and  cudgels  the  rapiers  of  the  disbanded 
officers  and  other  desperadoes  ever  tp^^p found 
about  the  palace  of  Whitehall — that  fe^^whose 
purses  could  maintain  such  followers,  esteemed  it- 
safe  to  walk  the  streets  by  night  without  their 
armed  attendance ;  particularly  such  as  were  ob 
noxious  to  assault,  or  insult  at  the  least,  in  conse 
quence  of  party  eminence  or  of  political  renown. 
At  a  few  steps  distance  from  the  house  they  en 
countered  a  stout  body  of  the  train-bands,  well 
equipped  with  muskets,  swords,  and  bandoleers, 
forming  a  portion  of  the  guards  which,  on  the 
news  of  the  attempt  against  Argyle  and  Hamilton, 
the  commons  had  required  to  be  detailed  for  their 
protection  by  the  Earl  of  Essex,  at  that  time  gen- 
eral-in-chief  on  this  side  Trent ;  and  to  this  it  might 
perhaps  in  some  degree  be  owing,  that  during  their 
walk  homeward  no  circumstance  of  annoyance  or 
attack  occurred  to  interrupt  the  converse  of  these 
high-minded  men  ;  who,  though  but  newly  and  im 
perfectly  acquainted,  already  felt,  each  for  the 
other,  that  reverential  admiration  which  is  often 
the  precursor  to  familiar  friendship.  At  Ardenne's 


CROMWELL.  125 

lodging  door,  with  feelings  of  increased  respect, 
and  with- renewed  promises  of  a  meeting  on  the 
morrow,  they  then  parted — the  one  hastening  to 
some  nightly  conclave,  there  to  deliberate  with  his 
associate  patriots  on  measures  rife  with  England's 
weal — the  other  to  stretch  his  limbs  upon  a  sleep 
less  couch,  and  ponder  the  effects  of  his  accession 
to  the  popular  party  on  his  own  fate  and  fortunes. 
Kind  sleep,  however,  came  at  last,  to  seal  up  for  a 
little  space  the  sources  of  his  deep  disquietude,  and 
to  allay,  until  another  sun  should  wake  him  to  fresh 
struggles,  fresh  anxieties,  the  feverish  tumults  of 
his  bosom.  Still,  so  engrossing  was  the  subject 
which  last  had  occupied  his  mind  before  he  sunk 
into  slumber,  and  so  powerful  the  operation  of  his 
spirit  frjtfpl  while  the  body  was  buried  in  what 
seemed  iio^olute  oblivion,  that  scarcely  had  the 
earliest  indications  of  the  wintry  twilight  crept 
through  the  fogs  of  the  near  river  ere  he  awoke, 
and,  starting  instantly  from  his  bed,  began  to  do  his 
garments  on,  summoning  the  while  his  sluggard 
followers  to  prepare  his  morning  meal.  But,  not 
withstanding  all  his  haste,  so  gloomy  was  the 
dawning,  and  so  late,  at  that  drear  season,  the  up 
rising  of  the  sun,  that  he  had  scarce  the  time  to 
snatch  a  hasty  morsel  before  his  horses  were  an 
nounced  to  bear  him  to  St.  Stephen's,  and,  almost 
at  the  self-same  instant,  two  gentlemen  to  speak 
with  Master  Ardenne  ! — and,  with  the  word,  John 
Hampden  entered  the  apartment,  accompanied  by 
a  person  of  most  "  unusual"  and  forbidding  aspect. 
Austere,  fanatical,  and  gloomy  he  might  have  been 
pronounced  at  the  first  sight  by  any  person  mod 
erately  skilful  at  deciphering  men's  characters  from 
the  expression  of  their  features.  His  dress  would 
not,  perhaps,  entirely  bear  out  the  charge — for  such, 
and  a  most  grave  one,  was  it  deemed  by  the  wild 
L2 


126  CROMWELL. 

cavaliers — of  puritanism;  for,  although  uniform 
and  rather  grave  in  colour,  it  yet  was  cut  with  at 
tention  to  the  prevailing  mode,  as  well  as  to  the 
setting  off  a  person  infinitely  less  ungainly  than  his 
countenance  was  harsh  and  extraordinary.  His 
hat,  too,  which  he  carried  in  his  hand,  was  decora 
ted  with  a  feather,  and  his  sword  hung  from  a 
shoulder-knot  adorned  with  fringe  and  tassels.  Be 
fore,  however,  Edgar  had  well  surveyed  the  stran 
ger,  he  was  addressed  by  his  companion  of  the  pre 
vious  evening.  "  We  have,  I  fear,  intruded  some 
what  on  your  privacy,"  he  said,  "  at  this  unwonted 
hour,  I  and  my  good  friend,  Harry  Vane  the  young 
er;  whom  I  beseech  you,  Master  Ardenne,  know  as 
such ;  right  soon,  I  trust,  to  stand  in  similar  relation 
to  yourself;  but  we  were  both  desina^rtf  your 
company  this  morning  to  the  house,  anfff  would 
fain  propose  that  you  shall  for  the  present  occupy 
a  seat  nigh  mine.  Till  you  shall  be  in  some  de 
gree  accustomed  to  the  usages  and  method  of  the 
house,  it  may  be  my  experience  shall  in  somewhat 
profit  you ;  and  I  fear  not  to  make  this  offer,  see 
ing  that,  should  you  find  hereafter  that  your  con 
science  may  not  justify  your  being  one  of  us,  I 
shall  provide  that  none  may  look  on  you  as  a  de 
faulter  from  our  party — and  I  have  heard  and  seen 
enough,  methinks,  already  of  your  character  and 
bearing  to  know  that,  even  should  you  differ  irom 
us  as  to  the  quality  or  manner,  you  are  not  like  to 
be  against  us  as  to  the  needfulness  of  some  reform ; 
so  that  to  be  seen  companying  one  so  hateful  to  the 
courtly  faction  as  John  Hampden,  shall  in  no  sort 
prevent  you  of  advancement." 

"  Most  thankfully,"  said  Edgar,  after  exchanging 
courtesies  with  Vane,  "do  I  accept  your  offer; 
the  rather,  that  as  yet  I  know  not,  though  I  fain 
would  learn,  the  persons  of  many  among  your  fa- 


CROMWELL.  127 

mous  orators — and  for  the  rest,  my  vote  will  not, 
nor  my  opinion  either,  be  affected  anywise  by  sit 
ting  in  this  place  or  that.  But  now,  if  I  mistake 
not,  time  is  urgent,  and  we  should  be  on  our  way. 
Ride  you,  fair  gentlemen  ?  My  horses  wait  even 
now ;  but  if  you  walked  thus  far  I  shall  dismiss 
them—" 

"  We  came  on  horseback,  and  it  is  indeed  full 
time  we  were  at  the  house  ;  the  bells  rang  nine 
some  time  ere  we  arrived,"  replied  Sir  Harry. 
"  We  will,  if  it  so  please  you,  get  us  at  once  to 
horse." 

The  pace  at  which  they  rode,  when  they  had 
mounted,  prevented  the  possibility  of  any  serious  or 
connected  conversation,  and  but  few  minutes  were 
consumed  in  the  brief  gallop  that  brought  them  to 
the  low-Drowed  portal  of  St.  Stephen's.  The  pri 
vates  of  the  civic  guard  on  duly  at  the  door  pre 
sented  arms,  as  if  to  some  high  officer,  as  the  pat 
riot  leaders  passed  them ;  and  it  was  not  long  ere 
they  were  seated  all  together  in  the  body  of  the 
house,  at  no  great  distance  from  the  speaker's  chair. 
The  galleries  were  crowded,  as  it  seemed,  wellnigh 
to  suffocation,  not  with  the  ordinary  idlers  who  re 
sorted  thither  only  to  dissipate  the  tedium  of  an 
hour  not  otherwise  employed,  but  with  men  whose 
anxious  faces,  and  limbs  that  almost  trembled  with 
excitement,  announced  the  deep  and  painful  inter 
est  they  took  in  the  debate,  which  had  commenced 
already ;  and  with  a  spirit  so  unusual  at  the  opening 
of  a  measure  as  might  be  held  a  sure  prognostic  of 
the  fiery  and  determined  ardour  with  which  it  would 
be  carried  on  ere  it  might  come  to  question.  At 
the  moment  when  they  entered,  Hollis  was  on  his 
legs,  urging  with  logical  and  beautiful  precision  the 
absolute  necessity  of  fixing,  and  on  grounds  so  sure 
that  they  should  never  more  be  moved  the  limits 


128  CROMWELL. 

between  right  constitutional  prerogative  and  abso 
lute  despotic  power — pointing  out  the  gradual  and 
successive  innovations  by  which  the  ruling  mon 
arch  had  encroached  on  all  the  liberties,  both  civil 
and  religious,  of  the  English  people — the  tamper 
ing  with  jesuited  papists — the  evident  dislike  to 
parliaments — the  most  illegal  levyings  of  money 
by  violent  and  arbitrary  contribution — the  billeting 
of  irresponsible  and  lawless  soldiery  on  private 
householders — the  imprisoning  of  members  con 
trary  to  privilege  of  parliament,  for  words  or  senti 
ments  expressed  therein — "  One  of  whom,"  he  pro 
ceeded — "  one  noble,  and  eloquent,  and  wise,  and 
loyal^ — than  whom  no  better  subject  breathed  the 
breath  of  life  within  the  girt  of  the  four  seas  that 
compass  Britain — DIED — miserably  died — for  want 
of  natural  refreshment !  "Whose  blood,"  he"  added, 
in  loud  and  pealing  tones,  that  woke  an  echo  in  the 
breast  of  every  free-souled  man — "  whose  blood 
of  life,  untimely  and  unrighteously  dried  up,  still 
cries — cries  even  from  the  dungeon-walls  wherein 
yet  lies  the  mouldering  clay  whence  persecution 
drove  the  free  and  fearless  spirit — still  cries,  I  say, 
to  every  English  heart — cries,  trumpet-tongued, 
for  vengeance!"  Wildly  and  fiercely  rose  the 
mingled  shout — for  it  was  nothing  less — of  appro 
bation  and  disgust.  "  Eliot !"  exclaimed  one  bolder 
than  the  rest,  making  aloud  the  application  which 
all  had  tacitly  perceived ;  "  Eliot !  the  murdered 
Eliot !"  while  the  hall  rang  with  diverse  cries  of 
"Treason!"  "Vengeance!"  "Order!"  the  latter 
word  prevailing  gradually,  even  as  the  rest  subsi 
ded,  till  the  orator  again  obtained  a  clear  field  for 
his  manly  elocution.  With  a  lower  voice  and  less 
impassioned  manner,  he  proceeded  to  recount  a 
train  of  grievances  that  seemed  to  defy  enumera 
tion — the  new  and  unfair  tax  of  ship-money — the 


CROMWELL.  129 

seas  ill  guarded,  and  the  mariners  left  naked  to  the 
violence  of  Turkish  pirates — the  depopulating  of 
the  city,  so  to  raise  enormous  fines — the  seizing 
of  the  merchants'  money  in  the  mint — the  shame 
less  project  of  brass  coinage — the  barbarous  and 
reckless  censures  of  self-constituted  courts — "with 
their  imprisoning  and  banishing — their  stigmati 
zing,  gagging,  scourging,  and  mutilating — ay !  I 
said  mutilating  /"  he  went  on,  with  energy  befit 
ting  well  his  subject — "  mutilating  the  free  limbs 
of  uncondernned  and  unoffending  Britons  !  And  I 
say  this,"  he  cried,  louder  and  clearer  yet,  "  I  say 
this,  not  of  an  Ottoman  Divan — not  of  a  Spanish 
Inquisition — but  of  an  English  Chamber  ! — of  a 
Star  Chamber  HERE  !  Here,  in  the  land  of  Magna 
Charta  ! — Here,  where  the  code  of  Alfred  is  not  as 
yet  forgotten  or  extinct !  A  chamber  judging  not 
by  law,  and  trying  not  by  jury !  "A  chamber 
forcing  men  to  yield  their  substance  to  be  wasted 
in  the  raising  armies  and  equipping  fleets — for 
what  ? — what,  but  to  compel  their  fellows,  their 
Protestant  and  pious  brethren,  to  worship  HIM 
who  made  them,  according,  not  to  conscience  nor 
to  faith,  but  to  the  will  of  painted  potsherds ! — 
scarlet  iniquities  ! — hoary  and  venerable  sins  ! — 
wolves  in  sheep's  clothing ! — faithless  and  hireling 
shepherds,  hounding  the  dogs  upon  the  flock  which 
they  should  guard  and  cherish  ! — prebends,  and 
deans,  and  bishops !"  And,  amid  a  tumult  of  ap 
plause,  the  popular  and  weigKty  orator  resumed  his 
seat,  while  Hyde  uprose — not,  as  it  seemed,  to  an 
swer,  but  to  palliate,  to  palter,  to  procrastinate  ;  for 
not  once  did  he  summon  courage  to  question  or 
deny  that  which  no  earthly  wit  or  wisdom  could 
disprove.  And  fiercely  as  the  measure  was  dis 
cussed,  it  was  yet  most  remarkable  that  not  one  of 
the  royal  partisans,  maintaining,  as  they  did  most 


130  CROMWELL. 

resolutely,  the  debate  from  morning  till  past  mid 
night,  spoke  so  much  as  a  word  to  the  denial  of 
these  charges — urging  alone  the  wantonness  of 
representing  with  such  sharp  reflections  things, 
some  of  which  already  were  amended,  and  others 
in  fair  state  of  promise  toward  adjustment — the 
impolicy  of  alienating  more  the  good-will  of  the 
king,  now  well  disposed  to  gracious  reformation — 
or,  above  all,  the  wickedness  of  thus  infusing  jeal 
ousies,  and  strife,  and  discord  into  the  bosom  of  a 
state  at  this  time  flourishing,  as  some  had  the  au 
dacity  to  add,  beyond  all  previous  precedent  in  the 
fair  growth  of  freedom.  All  this  made  forcible  im 
pression  on  the  clear  mind  of  Ardenne,  as  he  lis 
tened  with  enthusiastic  feelings,  it  is  true,  but  still 
with  calm  discrimination,  to  the  successive  bursts — 
sometimes  of  eloquence,  thrilling,  sublime,  and  al 
most  superhuman  in  its  majesty — sometimes  of 
coarse,  fanatical,  and  phrensied  ravings — while  Glyn 
and  Maynard,  Cromwell  and  Pym,  and  lastly,  the 
unrivalled  Hampden,  advocated  this  great  measure 
— equals  all,  if  not  in  perspicuity  of  argument  or 
vividness  of  torrent  elocution,  if  not  in  talent  or 
ability,  at  least  in  truth  and  fervour,  and  in  that  sin 
gle-minded  'earnestness  which  proved  past  doubt 
their  genuine  and  deep  sincerity.  At  first  he  wait 
ed  with  strong  interest  the  rising  of  some  champion 
who  should  turn,  or  at  the  least  dispute,  the  tri 
umph  with  the  speakers  of  the  liberal  party ;  then, 
as  one  after  one  they  took  their  places  at  the  table, 
and  spoke  their  speeches,  varied  in  vigour  and  in 
brilliance,  but  monotonous  in  argument,  or  rather  in 
the  want  of  it,  a  sense  of  disappointment  overcame 
him ;  and  by  slow  degrees  the  strong  conviction 
gained,  that  the  cause  must  be  indeed  vicious  and 
feeble  for  which  its  most  devoted  favourers,  wise, 
eloquent,  and  witty  as  confessedly  they  were,  had 


CROMWELL.  131 

nothing  to  advance  beyond  what  he  had  that  day 
heard  with  mingled  feelings  of  contempt  and  won 
der.  Hours  flew  past  like  moments ;  and,  before 
Edgar  knew  that  it  was  noon,  evening  fell  dark  on 
the  discussion;  then,  neither  party  willing  to  ad 
journ,  candles  were  called  for,  and  the  strife  of 
words  went  on,  waxing  more  wild  and  fierce  as 
each  successive  speaker  added  his  mite  of  fuel  to 
the  fast-kindling  blaze.  Meantime  the  house  grew 
thinner,  as  the  weary  and  the  weak,  the  delicate  in 
health  or  frail  in  years,  reluctantly  departed,  actu 
ally  worn  out  by  the  lassitude  that  succeeds  ever 
to  unnatural  excitement ;  and  the  arena  of  the  men 
tal  gladiators  became  more  open  to  their  virulent 
contention.  And  still,  at  each  succeeding  pause, 
the  liberal  party  seemed  to  gain  in  strength — the 
mighty  hum  of  approbation  rose  more  audibly  at 
every  bold  and  popular  sentiment;  while  the  cheers 
of  the  diminished  royalists  now  failed  to  rouse  their 
flagging  and  disheartened  orators.  So  wondrous 
was  the  prevalent  excitement,  that  it  drove  even 
the  calm,  dispassioned  blood  of  Ardenne  dancing 
through  all  his  veins  like  streams  of  liquid  fire ; 
and  he  found  himself  ere  long  lending  his  breath 
to  swell  the  shout  of  admiration  that  followed  every 
sentence  uttered  by  the  latter  speakers.  At  length 
the  house  divided  on  the  passing  of  the  bill ;  and 
however  certain  the  result  had  seemed  while  dis 
tant,  so  thickly  mustered  the  opponents  of  the 
measure,  that  many  an  honest  heart  fluttered  in 
doubt,  and  many  a  face  of  England's  noblest  sons 
was  dark  as  midnight  with  despondency.  During 
the  moment  of  confusion  which  always  must  occur 
at  such  a  crisis,  a  whisper  fell  upon  the  ear  of  Ed 
gar — a  low,  stern  whisper,  not  addressed  to  him, 
nor  at  that  instant  comprehended — uttered,  as  he 
fancied,  in  the  sneering  tones  of  St.  John.  "  Look 


132  CROMWELL. 

now !"  it  said — "  look  now,  friend  Oliver,  to  your 
most  promising  recruit !"  The  answer  came, 
though  he  saw  not  the  speaker,  in  the  harsh  voice 
of  Cromwell — "  Nay,  verily  !  but  do  thou  look — 
and  thine  eyes  shall  see  the  truth  of  that  I  told 
thee  !" 

All,  at  the  time,  passed  with  the  speed  and  nearly 
with  the  tumult  of  a  whirlwind ;  nor,  although  after 
ward  he  sometimes  deemed  the  words  had  refer 
ence  to  himself,  did  they  then  penetrate  beyond  his 
outward  ear.  Without  a  momentary  doubt,  a 
thought  of  hesitation,  Edgar  stepped  forth,  and 
sealed  the  downfall  of  his  private  fortunes  by  the 
vote  which  he  recorded  in  the  cause  of  England's 
liberty.  A  small  majority  of  but  eleven  voices 
passed  that  eventful  bill,  the  loss  of  which  would 
have  exiled  hundreds — 'the  best  and  wisest  of  the 
land — driving  them  forth  to  seek,  amid  the  snow- 
clad  wilds  of  the  New-England  shore,  what  they 
had  then  despaired  at  home — "  freedom  to  worship 
God." 

Scarce  had  the  hearty  cheering  which  followed 
this  announcement  ended,  ere  Hampden  rose  again, 
to  move  "  that  there  might  be  an  order  entered  for 
the  present  printing  of  it" — and  straightway,  as  if 
all  that  had  preceded  it  were  but  the  prelude  and 
slight  skirmish  which  so  generally  leads  to  a  pitched 
battle,  a  debate — if  that  which  was  all  animosity, 
and  virulence,  and  fury  can  be  called  debate — en 
sued,  which  speedily  effaced  all  recollection  of  the 
previous  struggle,  and  had  wellnigh  steeped  the 
hands  of  the  contending  factions  in  each  other's 
gore.  Hyde  started  to  his  feet  the  first,  praying 
that  he  might  have  permission  to  enter  his  protest 
— believing,  as  he  said,  such  printing  of  the  bill, 
without  concurrence  of  the  lords,  to  be  alike  un 
precedented  and  illegal ;  and,  ere  he  had  well  end- 


CROMWELL.  133 

ed,  up  sprang  Jeffry  Palmer,  a  member  of  high 
standing  in  the  house  for  wisdom  and  experience, 
no  less  than  for  distinguished  talent,  with  flashing 
features  and  a  voice  that  quivered  with  hot  passion, 
moving  "  that  he  likewise  might  protest !"  The 
mildest  and  most  stately  of  demeanour  among  the 
assembled  counsellors  might  be  seen  with  blood 
shot  eyes,  and  tones  husky  and  cracked  with  clam 
ouring — and  the  more  sullen  and  fanatical  sitting 
with  teeth  hard  set,  and  hands  upon  their  hilts,  as 
if  but  waiting  for  a  voice  to  cry  "  The  sword  of  the 
Lord  and  of  Gideon,"  or  some  other  text  of  warlike 
and  blood-thirsty  import,  before  they  should  betake 
them,  in  their  own  language,  to  the  carnal  weapon. 
So  critical,  indeed,  was  the  conjuncture  of  affairs, 
and  to  such  lengths  had  private  pique  and  public 
animosity  been  carried,  among  men  all  armed  in 
token  of  their  gentle  birth,  that,  writing  coolly  in  his 
journal  after  the  heat  and  passion  of  the  contest 
had  gone  by,  Sir  Philip  Warwick  has  recorded, 
"  that  when  they  voted  it  I  thought  we  had  all  sat 
in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death ;  for  we,  like 
Joab  and  Abner's  young  men,  had  catched  at  each 
other's  locks,  and  sheathed  our  swords  in  each  oth 
er's  bowels,  had  not  the  sagacity  and  great  calm 
ness  of  Mr.  Hampden,  by  a  short  speech,  prevented 
us,  and  led  us  to  defer  our  angry  debate  until  next 
morning."  And  so  in  truth  it  was  ;  for  at  two  of 
the  clock  past  midnight,  when  he  saw  that  nothing 
could  be  hoped  in  the  then  temper  of  the  house, 
that  wise  and  upright  statesman  moved  an  adjourn 
ment  until  two  of  the  next  afternoon,  prescribing 
motives  so  replete  with  good  sense  and  good  feel 
ing,  that  none  so  stubborn  as  could,  with  any  show 
of  right,  gainsay  him. 

Worn  out  and  wearied,  body  and  mind  alike, 
with  the  protracted  contest,  men  of  both  parties 

VOL.  I.— M 


134  CROMWELL, 

mingled  hurriedly  as  they  flocked  homeward  ;  and 
again  it  was  the  chance  of  Ardenne  strangely 
enough  to  be  ear-witness  to  a  conversation  be 
tween  Cromwell  and  Lord  Falkland.  .The  for 
mer  he  had  joined,  hard  by  the  foot  of  the  great 
staircase,  desiring  in  some  degree  to  cultivate  rela 
tions  with  a  man  whose  words  and  aspect  had  im 
bued  him  with  a  feeling  which  he  could  not  well 
account  for  or  define,  but  which  in  after  days  he 
mentioned  as  a  prophetic  awe,  for  that  he  was  in 
presence  of  a  spirit  mightier  than  his  own.  The 
latter  overtook  them  suddenly,  and  was  passing 
onward  at  the  first  without  addressing  either,  till 
he  caught  the  eye  of  Cromwell.  "  Ha  !"  he  said, 
with  a  quiet  smile,  not  wholly  free  from  irony — 
"Ha !  Master  Cromwell,  think  you  there  hath  been 
a  debate  to-day  ?" 

"  Another  time,"  replied  the  puritan — "  another 
time,  and  I  will  take  thy  word — but  verily,  I  say  to 
you — verily,  as  the  Lord  Jehovah  liveth,  had  this 
remonstrance  been  rejected,  then  had  I  sold  mine 
all  of  worldly  substance  on  the  morrow — ay  !  and 
had  taken  up  my  staff,  and  girt  me  with  my  sword 
upon  my  thigh,  and  never  had  seen  England  any 
more  !" 

"  Nor  you  alone,  perchance  !"  answered  the 
youthful  noble,  after  a  moment  of  reflection.  "  Me- 
thinks  I  have  heard  others  named  for  a  like  reso 
lution  !" 

"  Perchance ! — Me  no  perchance  !"  cried  Oliver, 
with  a  triumphant  smile.  "  Had  the  malignants 
carried  it,  I  tell  you  that  their  victory  had  robbed 
old  England  of  her  trustiest  spirits  !  But  now,  my 
lord,  mark  well  my  words  ! — and  you  too,  friend — 
if  that  you  be,  as  I  do  partly  think  you  are — and  if 
you  be  not,  and  I  be  in  error,  then  may  the  Lord 
enlighten  and  amend  you — a  friend  to  liberty,  mark 


CROMWELL.  135 

well  my  words  !  There  shall  be  no  stint  more,  nor 
let,  nor  hinderance  !  Papists  and  tyrants  in  this 
soon-to-be-regenerated  land  shall  no  more  hold  do 
minion  !  The  name  of  Englishman,  now  scorned 
and  scoffed  at  throughout  Europe — you,  Edgar 
Ardenne,  you  do  know  the  truth  of  that  which  I 
aver — shall  be  as  far  and  wide  revered  as  ever  was 
the  name  of  antique  Roman  !  For  verily  I  tell  ye 
—and  I  tell  ye  truth — that  now  the  Lord's  good 
time  hath  come,  when  he  shall  choose  him  out  a 
MAN  !  I  say  not  whom — nor  were  it  meet  that  I, 
the  vilest  and  most  worthless  of  his  instruments, 
should  judge  whom  the  Lord  listeth  to  appoint — 
but  verily,  I  say,  a  MAN,  who  shall  bring  mighty 
things  to  pass  in  Israel !" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  Lo !  how  'tis  ever  on  the  stillest  day — 
When  the  breeze  stirs  not  in  the  topmost  bough 
The  aspen's  quivering  leaf — when  peaceful  clouds 
Hang  balanced  in  the  dull  and  moveless  air — 
When  earth  and  ocean  bask  in  deep  repose, 
Securely  tranquil — that  the  thundrous  storm 
Rends  the  calm  sky  which  bred  it." 

AFTER  that  mighty  trial  of  the  strength  of  par 
ties — the  bill  of  general  remonstrance. — had  passed 
through  the  house,  there  followed  a  short  pause — a 
lull,  as  it  were,  in  the  loud  tempest  of  commotion 
— a  breathing-space  snatched  from  the  midst  of 
battle.  With  the  exception  of  a  short  and  some 
what  turbulent  debate  on  the  day  following  that  of 
the  main  question,  originating  in  a  wish  on  the  part 
of  the  puritanic  leaders  to  punish  those  who  had 


136  CROMWELL. 

protested  on  the  previous  night,  but  resulting  merely 
in  a  penalty  of  form  inflicted  on  one  person,  Jeffry 
Palmer — the  commons  seemed  to  relax  in  the  vig 
our  of  their  defensive  warfare  against  the  crown. 
The  bill  for  regulation  of  the  militia  and  prevention 
of  forcible  impressment,  unless  in  case  of  actual 
invasion,  was,  it  is  true,  brought  forward,  but  with 
out  any  of  that  inveterate  and  rancorous  spirit 
which  had  signalized  their  earlier  measures.  The 
king,  on  his  return  from  Scotland,  was  received — 
chiefly  in  consequence  of  the  exertions  of  Sir  Rich 
ard  Gourney,  the  lord  mayor  of  London,  an  active 
and  uncompromising  loyalist — with  loud,  if  not  sin 
cere,  manifestations  of  welcome  and  affection — was 
feasted  at  the  Guildhall  with  more  than  ordinary 
splendour,  and  hailed,  as  he  passed  to  and  fro  the 
city,  with  thundering  acclamations  by  the  wavering 
and  worthless  populace.  A  farther  triumph  still 
awaited  him  in  the  address  presented  at  his  resi 
dence  of  Hampton  Court,  by  aldermen  deputed 
from  the  city,  requesting  him  to  take  up  his  abode 
among  them,  and  to  hold  his  court,  as  heretofore, 
in  his  palace  of  Whitehall.  This  loyal  and  well- 
timed  address — reputed,  as  it  was,  to  be  distasteful 
in  no  small  degree  to  parliament — was  graciously 
accepted ;  the  deputies  all  knighted,  and  the  request 
granted  joyfully.  The  bills,  moreover,  most  ob 
noxious  to  the  king — that  principally  which  would 
exclude  the  bishops'  votes — made  but  slow  prog 
ress,  and,  even  should  it  pass  the  commons,  was 
not  expected  to  receive  the  sanction  of  the  lords. 
Falkland  and  Colepepper,  heretofore  active  mem 
bers  of  the  reforming  parly,  although  moderate  and 
wary,  now  having  taken  office  openly — the  former 
being  secretary  of  state  in  lieu  of  Vane,  the  latter 
chancellor  of  the  exchequer — held  nightly  con 
ferences  at  the  house  of  Hyde  for  the  well  and 


CROMWELL.  137 

wisely  ordering  the  shaken  and  dismantled  princi 
ples  of  government ;  and  would,  as  it  seems  prob 
able,  have  met  with  eminent  success  in  their  be 
neficent  and  patriotic  measures,  had  it  not  been  for 
secret  influences  and  the  prevalence  of  counsellors 
behind  the  throne,  unseen  and  unsuspected,  but  ex 
ercising — and  for  ends  most  infamous  and  selfish — 
a  power,  to  which,  unhappily  for  him  and  for  his 
kingdom,  the  mind  of  Charles,  easily  led,  and  prone 
to  arbitrary  counsels,  though  obstinate  and  inacces 
sible  to  aught  of  argument  unsuited  to  his  own 
opinions,  yielded  complete  obedience.  Such  was 
the  state  of  matters  —  things  gradually  looking 
brighter  and  more  bright  for  the  royal  party,  and 
the  remonstrant  leaders,  Hampden  especially,  not 
only  becoming  less  violent  in  their  opposition,  but 
beginning  to  judge  more  favourably  of  the  king's 
motives  and  intent — when  the  insane  and  childish 
protest  of  the  bishops,  instigated  to  it  by  the  proud 
and  angry  Williams,  was  sent  forth,  declaring  "  all 
laws,  orders,  votes,  resolutions,  and  determinations 
already  passed,  or  such  as  shall  hereafter  pass, 
during  their  absence  from  that  most  honourable 
house" — compulsory,  as  they  affirmed  it — "  null 
and  of  none  effect."  The  consequence  was  an 
immediate  and  almost  unanimous  vote,  both  of  the 
lords  and  commons,  for  the  committal  of  the  pre 
lates  to  the  tower — one  solitary  member  only  so  far 
opposing  it,  as  to  declare  that  he  believed  them  ut 
terly  insane,  and  therefore  recommended  Bedlam, 
rather  than  the  tower,  -\s  a  fit  place  for  their  deten 
tion.  Then  came  reports  of  plots — rumours  of  ag 
gressions  meditated  on  the  lower  house — doubts, 
and  despondencies,  and  wrath,  and  panics  !  It  was 
believed  on  all  sides,  that,  without  confident  assu 
rance  of  support,  the  bishops  had  not  dared  to  rush 
to  such  extremities.  Petitions  were  poured  in  from 
M2 


138  CROMWELL. 

every  quarter !  One  from  the  city,  setting  forth 
that,  since  their  loyal  gratulations  on  his  majesty's 
return  had  been  misconstrued  as  though  they  would 
disown  the  doings  of  the  parliament,  they  now  de 
clared  their  full  resolve  to  live  and  die  with  them 
for  the  good  of  the  commonwealth.  Addresses 
multiplied,  and  were  accompanied,  even  to  the  pal 
ace,  by  such  crowds,  that,  in  a  message  to  the  com 
mon  council,  the  king  complained  of  the  tumultuous 
assemblages  daily  increasing,  to  the  disturbance  of 
his  palace  of  Whitehall.  On  the  same  day  the 
parliament  petitioned  him  to  grant  to  them  a  guard, 
commanded  by  the  Earl,  of  Essex — that  detailed 
for  their  protection  during  his  absence  in  the  north 
having  been  instantly  disbanded  on  his  late  return 
— on  account  of  a  malignant  party  now  daring 
openly  to  threaten  them  with  violence.  To  this 
request,  reasonable  as  after  events  proved  it  to  have 
been,  the  self-willed  monarch  returned  a  negative, 
though  offering  that  such  a  guard  should  wait  on 
them — under  a  leader  of  his  own  choice,  utterly 
subservient  to  his  will — "  as  he  would  be  answera 
ble  for  to  Almighty  God  !"  This  proposition  they 
of  course  declined,  perceiving,  doubtless,  that  the 
guard  so  ordered  would  be  more  like  to  militate 
against  their  liberties,  if  not  their  persons,  than  to 
defend  them  from  external  outrage.  It  was  upon 
the  very  day  that  followed  this  insidious  offer — for 
such  it  must  be  deemed — that,  urged  by  his  worst 
counsellor,  the  false  and  faithless  Henrietta,  to  that 
most  rash  and  headlong  step  which  rendered  his 
affairs  for  ever  irretrievable,  and  reconciliation  with 
his  subjects  hopeless — elated  still  by  his  reception 
in  the  city,  and  heedless  of  the  daily  proofs  of  pub 
lic  feeling  and  opinion,  he  went  on  to  commit  his 
last  and  desperate  aggression  on  the  privilege  of 
parliament — an  aggression !  which,  had  they  tame- 


CROMWELL.  139 

ly  borne,  his  throne  would  have  been  fixed  for  ever 
on  the  firm  basis  of  despotic  rule,  and  England 
would  have  lain  a  fettered  captive  at  his  tyrannous 
footstool.  It  was  on  the  next  day,  while  the  pro 
testation — that  he  would  be  answerable  to  Almighty 
God  for  the  safe-guarding  of  their  liberties  and  per 
sons — was  yet  fresh  on  his  lips,  that  he  struck  that 
blow  at  the  very  existence  of  parliaments,  which, 
had  it  fallen  as  intended,  must  have  destroyed  them 
root  and  branch.  For,  on  the  afternoon  of  that 
eventful  day,  Herbert,  the  king's  attorney-general, 
entered  the  house  of  peers,  then  sitting,  and,  draw 
ing  out  a  paper  in  the  king's  own  writing,  read  it 
aloud ;  by  which  the  Lord  Kimbolton,  present  there 
and  then — and  of  the  commons,  Denzil  Hollis,  and 
Sir  Arthur  Hazlerig,  Pym,  Strode,  and  Hampden, 
stood  each  and  all  accused  of  treason,  as  conspira 
tors  against  the  king  and  constitution.  The  peers 
sat  actually  panic-stricken  and  aghast  at  this  tre 
mendous  stroke  of  folly  and  misgovernment,  hear 
ing  in  sullen  silence  the  grave  accusation,  while 
Kimbolton,  springing  to  his  feet,  with  eloquent  and 
strenuous  indignation,  professed  his  total  inno 
cence  ;  nor  was  there  any  lord  so  hardy  to  so 
much  as  move  for  his  committal  on  his  majesty's 
behalf.  Meanwhile  the  commons'  house  was  en 
tered  by  the  king's  sergeant,  demanding  that  the 
speaker  should  deliver  up  the  bodies  of  the  mem 
bers  named  above,  to  answer  to  a  charge  of  trea 
son — bearing  no  warrant  or  authority  from  magis 
trate  or  counsellor,  but  acting  solely  at  the  king's 
behest,  and  without  intervention  of  the  law.  News 
came  at  the  same  instant  that  the  private  lodgings 
of  those  members  had  been  visited  by  royal  mes 
sengers,  their  trunks  and  studies  sealed  up,  and 
their  papers  violently  seized.  With  bold  and  mas 
culine  resolve,  well  suited  to  the  peril  of  the  crisis, 


140  CROMWELL. 

did  the  house  meet  this  haughty  and  high-handed 
insolence  !  The  sergeant,  having  gone  through  his 
message,  was  desired  to  avoid  the  chamber;  but 
word  was  sent  the  monarch  by  a  deputation,  assu 
ring  him  those  members  should  be  instantly  forth 
coming  so  soon  as  any  legal  charge  should  be  pre 
ferred  against  them — the  house  declaring,  by  a  pow 
erful  vote,  those  violent  acts  of  seizure  breaches 
of  privilege,  audacious,  and  illegal ! — empowering 
their  members  to  resist ;  calling  on  all  men  to  abet 
and  aid  them  in  resisting  such  attempts  upon  their 
liberties  as  freeborn  Britons  ;  and  instantly  ad 
journing  for  the  night  until  the  wonted  hour  on  the 
morrow. 

It  was  at  a  late  hour  in  the  evening  of  this 
fatal  day  that  several  ladies  of  the  court,  richly 
and  splendidly  attired,  might  have  been  seen  col 
lected  in  a  proud  saloon,  decked  with  the  master 
pieces  of  Vandyke  and  Rubens,  with  tapestries  of 
Gobelins  and  Arras  hangings,  with  cabinets  of  buhl 
and  marquetry,  buffets  of  antique  golden  plate  and 
yet  more  costly  porcelain,  and  all  those  priceless 
luxuries  which  mark  a  royal  dwelling.  Among 
this  glittering  group,  and  seemingly  its  principal, 
was  one — a  lady  of  low,  slender  stature,  and  a 
shape  slightly  awry,  though,  by  skill  of  her  tire 
woman,  this  defect  was  so  disguised  as  to  be  scarce 
perceptible.  Her  hands  were  delicate,  and  gem 
med — as  were  her  ears,  her  neck,  the  bosom  of  her 
robe,  and  the  rich  volumes  of  her  jet-black  hair — 
with  Indian  brilliants.  Her  features  were  agreea 
ble  and  sprightly,  yet  such  as  could  not  properly 
be  praised  as  regular  or  beautiful ;  a  pair  of  bright 
black  eyes  and  a  coquettish  smile  forming  their 
chief  attraction.  Her  conversation,  lively,  and  per 
haps  even  brilliant,  though  flippant  and  unguarded, 
was  listened  to  by  her  attendant  ladies,  and  by  the 
only  cavalier  admitted  to  the  presence — a  man  of 


CROMWELL.  141 

loble  bearing,  easy  yet  dignified,  and  withal  in 
aerson  eminently  handsome — with  an  attention  so 
Drofound  that  it  denoted — even  without  the  bended 
inee  and  the  averted  back — the  speaker  to  be  one 
)f  royal  rank.  Music  and  cards  were  in  the  cham- 
)er,  and  a  most  lovely  girl,  of  some  seventeen  or 
;ighteen  years,  was  dancing  to  the  amatory  strains 
)f  some  concealed  musician,  in  a  style  which  would 
)e  now  esteemed  far  too  voluptuous,  if  not  abso- 
utely  meretricious,  to  be  performed  by  the  chaste 
imbs  of  ladies,  or  looked  upon  by  modest  eyes. 
Yet  neither  lansquenet,  nor  the  soft  melody,  nor  the 
;xciting  graces  of  the  beautiful  dancer,  appeared 
sufficient  to  banish  some  uneasiness  which  lowered 
>ver  that  fair  company.  The  brow  of  Henrietta, 
or  she  it  was,  was  dark  and  gloomy,  much  against 
ts  wont,  and  her  ill-humour  had  been  so  far  tcon- 
agious  as  to  affect  her  bright  companions  with  all 
he  outward  signs  of  discontent  and  sorrow.  While 
>he  was  talking  earnestly  to  the  Lord  Digby,  now 
—since  the  flight  of  Jermyn,  her  adulterous  para- 
nour — her  most  beloved  and  trusty  counsellor,  a 
short  and  hasty  step  was  heard  without,  accompa- 
lied  by  a  slight  bustle,  as  if  some  more  distin 
guished  personage  had  suddenly  and  by  surprise 
;ome  on  the  unexpectant  chamberlains  and  pages, 
sole  inmates  of  the  antechamber.  The  door  of 
polished  oak  flew  open,  and,  bearing  evident  marks 
}f  discomposure  in  his  lip  depressed  and  overshad- 
Dwed  brow,  a  gentleman  of  graceful  presence  en 
tered  the  apartment.  Of  that  time  of  life  when  the 
rashness  and  the  fire  of  youth  are  tempered  by  the 
sedateness  of  increasing  years,  although  the  face 
has  lost  no  trait  of  its  attraction,  nor  the  limbs  of 
their  alert  and  agile  motion,  Charles  Stuart — for  the 
new-comer  was  no  other — was  of  a  middle  height, 
but  strong  and  well  proportioned,  excepting  that 


142  CROMWELL. 

his  legs  were  triflingly  bowed  outward,  a  circum 
stance  which,  while  detracting  somewhat  from  the 
grace  and  symmetry  of  his  appearance,  was  favour 
able  more  than  otherwise  to  his  accustomed  exer 
cise  of  horsemanship — to  which,  indeed,  it  might 
have  been  in  some  sort  owing.  His  visage,  of  a 
just  and  oval  form,  was  pleasing,  although  dark- 
complexioned  ;  his  features  regular  and  comely, 
with  a  full  dark  eye ;  gentle,  and  somewhat  dull  in 
its  expression,  unless  its  owner  were  aroused  to  sud 
den  anger,  when  it  could  kindle  up  and  flash  as 
brightly  as  the  keenest ;  he  wore  mustaches,  some 
what  unusually  large  and  curling  upward,  with  a 
small  pointed  beard  of  that  precise  and  formal  cut 
which  is  so  often  met  with  in  the  portraits  of  Van 
dyke.  The  most  remarkable  trait,  however,  of  his 
whole  appearance,  was  that  continual  cloud  of  mild 
and  softened  melancholy  from  which  his  dignified 
and  stately  aspect  rarely  or  never  brightened  ;  for, 
even  when  he  smiled,  it  was  a  faint  and  transient 
flash,  scarce  clearing  up  the  gloom  of  that  accus 
tomed  sadness  which  brooded  over  his  counte 
nance — although  his  disposition  was  cheerful  more 
than  otherwise,  and,  if  not  buoyant,  certainly  nei 
ther  mournful  nor  despondent — and  which,  as  fan 
ciful  and  superstitious  men  have  oftentimes  ima 
gined,  is  ominous  of  an  untimely  end.  His  dress, 
of  plain  black  velvet,  slashed  and  lined  with  satin, 
differed  in  nothing — save  that  upon  the  left  side  of 
his  cloak  glittered  the  diamond  star  belonging  to 
the  order  of  the  garter — from  the  garb  of  any  pri 
vate  gentleman.  He  wore  his  hat  above  his  sable 
hair,  long-curled  and  flowing,  and  in  his  hand  he 
carried  a  strong  cane  or  ferule,  with  a  crutch  head 
of  gold,  which  he  struck  passionately  upon  the  car 
pet  as  he  entered. 

"  The  undutiful,  disloyal  varlets  !"  he  exclaimed, 


CROMWELL.  143 

in  tones  of  strong  excitement.  "  The  false,  rebell 
ious  knaves  ! — to  deal  thus  with  their  sovereign !" 
— and  for  several  moments  he  paced  to  and  fro  the 
room,  regardless  of  the  eager  entreaties  of  his  af 
frighted  wife  to  speak  the  cause  of  his  distemper- 
ature. 

"  A  message !"  he  burst  forth  at  length,  but  in 
a  voice  broken  and  faltering  with  passion.  "To 
me  !  to  me  a  message  !  I  tell  you,  Marie,  an'  they 
have  their  will,  I  may  indeed  be  called  your  maj 
esty — be  served  upon  the  knee — be  waited  on  bare 
headed — but  I  shall  be  no  more  a  king — nay,  ten 
times  less  the  master  even  of  myself,  than  the  most 
lowly  gentleman  in  all  my  wide  dominions.  But 
so  shall  it  not  be ! — No  !  By  God — never  !"  and 
in  a  few  disjointed  sentences  he  told  her  how  he 
had  demanded  of  the  parliament  the  bodies  of  six 
members,  on  a  charge  of  treason  against  himself 
and  them — and  had  received,  not  prompt  obedi 
ence  to  his  orders,  but  a  message  ! 

"  And  is  it  possible,"  she  cried,  artful  and  evil 
woman  that  she  was,  in  feigned  astonishment  and 
indignation — "  and  is  it  possible,  my  lord,  that  you 
— you,  heir  to  such  a  line  of  mighty  sovereigns — 
you,  monarch  of  Great  Britain — will  be  thus  braved 
and  thwarted — will  be  controlled,  defied,  and  tram 
pled  on  by  such  a  scum  of  low  and  scurvy  fel 
lows  as  this  parliament  ?  That  you  will  brook  to 
have  your  crown  robbed  of  its  brightest  jewels  of 
prerogative — your  sceptre  wrested  from  your  hands 
without  one  struggle  ?  Would — wretched  princess 
that  I  am — oh,  would  to  God  that  I  had  tarried  in 
my  own  glorious  France,  or  that  I  had  been  wedded 
to  a  MAN  !" 

"  Madam,  go  to !"  the  king  retorted  sharply — 
for,  all  uxorious  as  he  was,  and  prone  to  hold  her 
slightest  words  as  mandates  to  his  will,  his  temper, 
naturally  hasty  and  unpliant,  was  aggravated  now, 


144  CROMWELL. 

even  beyond  its  wont,  by  the  commingled  influence 
of  anger  and  irresolution.  "  Be  silent — and  dare 
not  impugn  our  energy  and  courage.  England  and 
you  shall  know,  and  that  right  speedily,  that  nei 
ther  will  Charles  Stuart  brook  insolence  at  home, 
nor  usurpation  of  his  rights  abroad  !  And  for  these 
— rash  and  reckless  rogues — they  too  shall  learn 
that  I  am  yet  a  king  !" 

"  Well  said  ! — well  said,  my  gracious  sover 
eign  ?"  exclaimed  Digby,  with  an  exulting  voice 
and  an  elated  eye.  "  Better  to  crush  at  once  this 
spawn  of  venomous  and  vicious  serpents  in  the  dark 
den  wherein  they  have  engendered,  than  one  by 
one  to  scotch  them,  when  they  shall  have  crawled 
forth  to  pollute  the  blessed  daylight,  and  swelled 
from  grovelling  reptiles  to  the  full  growth  of  ram 
pant  dragons  !" 

"  In  this,"  cried  Henrietta — "  in  this  most  noble 
wrath,  again  I  recognise  the  worthiest,  the  most 
high-souled  of  men  !  To-morrow  shalt  thou  pull 
these  vile  rogues  by  the  ears  from  out  their  infa 
mous  cabal !  Else  never  look  me  in  the  face 
again !" 

"  Brave  girl,"  replied  the  facile  king,  ruing  al 
ready  his  late  burst  of  anger — "  Brave,  brave  Ma 
rie,  and  beautiful  as  brave  !"  and,  throwing  one  arm 
round  her  waist,  he  led  her  to  a  sofa  at  the  farthest 
end  of  the  saloon,  where,  seating  himself  at  her 
side,  he  hung,  with  all  the  manifest  and  ardent  pas 
sion  of  a  boy-lover  over  the  wily  Delilah,  who — 
prodigal  in  secret  to  another  than  himself  of  her 
voluptuous  charms — had  yet  the  perfidy,  and  with 
it  too  the  power,  to  woo  him,  by  a  scanty  and  re 
luctant  show  of  public  fondness,  to  measures,  her 
only  interest  in  which  was  to  bring  back  a  banished 
lover  to  her  guilty  arms — how  ruinous  soever  they 
might  be,  she  recked  not,  to  her  too  trusting  hus 
band. 


CROMWELL.  145 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"A  King?— A  Tyrant! 
It  is  a  King's — to  hold  his  sceptre  firm 
By  love,  not  terror — his  assured  throne, 
A  people's  confidence — his  sword,  the  law 
Tempered  with  mercy — and  to  guard  the  right, 
The  sole  condition  that  aftears  his  crown ! 
A  Tyrant's — by  enforcement  stern  to  reign, 
And  slavish  fear — no  charter  to  admit 
Beyond  his  present  pleasure — nor  no  rule 
His  absolute  yea  beside." 

DURING  the  first  part  of  the  night  which  followed 
this  aggression  of  the  monarch,  the  city  was  all  tu 
mult  and  confusion — men  running  to  and  fro,  in 
crowds  or  singly,  conversing  eagerly  with  white 
and  panic-stricken  visages  —  women,  increasing, 
with  their  shrill  and  anxious  voices,  the  wild  din — 
and  children,   long  hours  past  the  wonted  time 
when  they  should  have  been  sleeping  peacefully  in 
their  warm  chambers,  wandering  to  and  fro,  with 
looks  of  frightened  and  inquiring  wonderment  cast 
upward  toward  the  agitated  features  of  their  pa 
rents  ;  but  the  necessity  of  rest  will  conquer  even 
the  quickest  and  most  moving  causes  of  excite 
ment  ;  and  ere  the  stars  began  to  pale  in  the  cold, 
frosty  sky,   the   thoroughfares   of  the  metropolis 
were  quiet  and  deserted  as  though  no  turbulence 
of  party  strife  had  ever  interrupted  their  security 
and  silence.     The  morning  broke  in  its  due  season, 
and  the  only  thing  observable  in  the  demeanour  of 
the  groups  who  gradually  filled  the  streets,  passing 
this  way  or  that,  as  men  engaged  in  their  accus 
tomed  avocations — in  their  pursuits  of  profit  or  of 
pleasure — was  an  air  of  general  and  pervading 
VOL.  I.— N 


146  CROMWELL. 

sternness — not  merely  gloom,  but  resolute  and 
dark  determination.  There  was  no  light  or  tri 
fling  conversation  !  no  jests  !  no  laughter  !  What 
ever  of  discourse  seemed  absolutely  needful  was 
couched  in  brief  and  pithy  sentences,  and  uttered 
in  a  tone  not  puritanic  nor  morose,  but  sad,  and  at 
the  same  time  full  of  energy,  grave,  and  severe, 
and  wellnigh  awful  in  its  character.  Then,  as  the 
day  advanced,  the  members  of  the  lower  house 
might  be  seen  hurrying  toward  St.  Stephen's — • 
some  mounted,  some  on  foot,  but  all  accompanied 
by  at  least  one  retainer;  and  these  were  greet 
ed  severally  by  the  multitude  with  shouts  of  appro 
bation,  or  with  groans  of  censure  and  reviling,  ac 
cordingly  as  they  were  known  for  men  of  popular 
or  loyal  principles.  Meanwhile,  in  a  small  cham 
ber  of  the  palace  at  Whitehall,  richly  adorned  with 
painted  walls  and  splendid  oaken  carvings,  and 
overlooking,  from  its  lofty  casements,  the  street 
through  which  the  crowds  were  flowing  toward  the 
parliament,  sat  Henrietta,  with  a  single  lady,  and 
a  page  awaiting,  near  the  door  of  the  apartment, 
the  pleasure  of  his  royal  mistress.  A  frame  filled 
with  embroidery  stood  before  her,  at  which  it  seem 
ed  she  had  but  recently  been  occupied ;  though  now 
she  held  a  volume  of  some  French  romance,  from 
which,  however,  her  eyes  glanced  so  often  toward 
the  windows,  attracted  by  the  mingled  clamours  of 
applause  and  hatred,  rising  at  times  even  until  they 
penetrated  her  reluctant  ears,  as  to  denote  that  lit 
tle  of  her  mind  was  given  to  the  wild,  witty  author 
who  apparently  engaged  her.  Her  eyes  were  full 
of  bright  and  keen  excitement ;  a  hectic  flush  glow 
ed  in  a  spot  of  vivid  crimson  high  up  on  either 
cheek,  and  her  hands  trembled  with  a  visible  and 
nervous  agitation.  Her  conversation,  also,  if  the 
light  and  frivolous  sentences  that  fell  from  her  lips 


CROMWELL.  147 

at  intervals  merited  such  a  title,  was  broken,  inter 
rupted,  and  evidently  embarrassed  by  some  inter 
nal  conflict  which  she  hesitated  to  disclose.  For 
a  considerable  time  she  struggled  to  maintain  a 
semblance  of  composure  ;  but,  as  the  hours  passed 
onward,  her  trepidation  became  more  and  more  ap 
parent.  At  every  step  that  sounded  in  the  long  cor 
ridors,  at  every  closing  of  a  distant  door,  she  start 
ed  ;  and  once  or  twice,  when  the  rattle  of  a  car 
riage  or  the  clatter  of  a  horse's  hoofs  appeared  to 
cease  before  the  gates,  she  actually  hurried  to  the 
balcony  and  gazed  abroad  into  the  town,  exposing 
herself,  as  if  unwittingly,  to  the  rude  stare  of  the 
transient  multitudes,  who  failed  to  greet  her  with 
the  smallest  tokens  of  affection  or  respect.  Twice 
or  thrice,  ere  the  bells  chimed  ten,  the  page  in 
waiting  was  despatched  to  learn  whether  no  tidings 
had  arrived  from  parliament — and  each  time  he  re 
turned  the  bearer  of  a  negative,  a  peevish  exclama 
tion  of  disgust  escaped  her,  not  unnoticed  by  the 
lady  who  attended  on  her  privacy.  At  length,  peal 
after  peal,  the  steeples  rang  forth  ten,  and  then, 
with  an  exulting  smile,  as  though  she  could  con 
tain  herself  no  longer — "  Rejoice  !"  she  cried,  in 
high,  triumphant  tones — "  Rejoice,  my  Carlisle — 
for  ere  now  the  king  is  master  in  his  states — ay ! 
and  his  enemies  are  all  in  custody !" 

"  His  enemies,  your  grace  ?"  exclaimed  the  pat 
riotic  lady,  to  whom,  with  indiscretion  equalled 
only  by  that  of  the  rash,  doting  husband  whom  she 
thus  betrayed,  she  had  divulged  her  secret — "  His 
enemies  ?" 

"  His  enemies,  said  I  ?"  returned  the  queen,  in 
accents  sharper  than  before.  "  In  truth,  then,  I 
spake  wrongly  !  His  traitors,  rather  !  His  false, 
rebellious,  and  blood-thirsty  traitors — by  God's 
help,  now  his  captives — Hampden,  and  Pym,  and 


148  CROMWELL. 

all  their  rabble  rout !"  And,  as  she  spoke — sweep 
ing  across  the  room  with  such  a  port  as  would  have 
well  beseemed  a  Britoinart  striding  upon  the  pros 
trate  necks  of  Romans,  in  their  turn  subdued  and 
humbled — and  entering  again  the  balcony,  she  cast 
a  wistful  glance  down  the  long  avenue.  But 
scarcely  had  she  turned  her  back  before  the  high 
born  lady  whom  she  had  addressed  hastily  tore  a 
leaf  from  out  her  tablets,  traced  on  it  some  half 
dozen  words,  and  pleading,  on  the  queen's  return, 
some  casual  indisposition,  quietly  left  the  chamber. 
Ten  minutes  had  not  well  elapsed  ere  she  re-enter 
ed  it — nor  would  the  change  in  her  demeanour 
have  escaped  the  close  and  subtle  watchfulness  of 
her  imperial  mistress,  had  not  that  royal  lady  been 
herself  perturbed  too  deeply  to  investigate  the 
mood  of  others.  The  Countess  of  Carlisle's  fea 
tures,  cast  in  the  purest  and  the  calmest  mould  of 
conscious  aristocracy,  had  worn  throughout  the 
morning  an  expression  of  grave  feminine  anxiety, 
and  her  broad,  placid  eye  had  followed,  with  a 
quiet  yet  observing  scrutiny,  every  unwonted 
movement,  every  nervous  start,  and  every  change  • 
of  colour  that  had  resulted  from  the  queen's  ex 
citement  ;  nor  had  she  tardily  discovered  that  some 
dread  crisis  was  at  hand — though  what  that  crisis 
was,  not  having  been  a  party  to  the  councils  of  the 
regal  circle  on  the  previous  night,  she  might  not 
even  guess.  The  thoughtless  words,  however,  of 
the  fickle-minded  Henrietta  had  given  her  at  once 
the  clew,  which  her  quick  apprehension  followed, 
as  it  were,  intuitively  through  all  its  labyrinth ; 
and  she  at  once  availed  herself  of  the  discovery  she 
had  made  with  a  degree  of  cool  and  present  cour 
age,  that,  even  in  that  age  of  prompt  and  daring 
action,  failed  not  to  wake  the  admiration  which  it 
merited.  Now,  however,  when  the  hardening  ex- 


CROMWELL.  149 

citement  had  passed  over — when  the  nerves,  which 
had  been  strung  so  tensely  to  the  performance  of 
her  duty,  were  no  longer  kept  in  play — when  she 
knew  that  her  trusty  messenger  was  on  his  way, 
and  past  the  palace  gates  already,  bearing  the 
tidings  of  approaching  insult — outrage — and  peril 
— to  the  liberties  of  England's  parliament,  the  maj 
esty  of  England's  laws,  she  for  the  first  time  trem 
bled,  not  for  herself,  but  for  her  country !  She  for 
the  first  time  began  to  fear  that  she  might  be  too 
late,  and  that  the  blow  might  have  already  fallen, 
ere  her  warning  should  arouse  the  destined  victims 
to  perception  of  their  danger.  Her  face  was  paler 
than  its  wont,  and  her  blue  eye,  so  tranquil  in  its 
usual  expression,  was  slightly  anxious.  Yet  it  was 
but  a  little  while  that  her  uncertainty  continued — 
for,  ere  an  hour  had  elapsed,  the  queen,  whose  pas 
sions  became  more  and  more  enkindled  with  every 
moment  of  suspense,  sending  another  messenger 
to  learn  whether  the  houses  were  in  session  still, 
received  for  answer  that  they  had  just  adjourned 
until  one  of  the  clock,  and  that  the  members  even 
now  were  passing  to  their  lodgings. 

"  Heavens !"  cried  Henrietta,  almost  in  despair 
at  this  unpleasing  and  most  unexpected  news — 
"  Just  Heavens  !  can  it  be  that  he  hath  failed  me  !" 
and  casting  herself  down  at  length  upon  a  couch, 
covered  her  head  with  a  thick  veil,  and  waited,  in 
an  agonized  and  speechless  fit  of  mingled  hope  and 
terror,  the  result  of  her  intriguing  machinations. 

In  the  meantime  the  house,  which  had  assem 
bled  at  the  usual  hour,  not  altogether  unexpectant 
of  some  farther  outrage  on  their  privileges,  had  in 
deed,  on  receiving  the  well-timed  announcement 
from  the  Countess  of  Carlisle,  upon  the  instant 
voted  an  adjournment;  that  they  might  better  so 
concert  plans  of  resistance  to  that  lawless  violence 
N2 


150  CROMWELL. 

which  they  were  now  too  well  assured  their  sover 
eign  had  resolved  to  perpetrate.  It  was  at  this 
moment,  when  all  were  hastening  homeward,  that 
Ardenne  observed  Cromwell  hurrying  to  and  fro 
among  the  leading  favourers  both  of  the  popular 
and  puritanic  principles,  and  whispering  to  one  a 
word  or  two,  then  passing  to  another — and,  as  he 
gazed  upon  his  compressed  lip,  and  eye  flashing 
with  almost  savage  pleasure,  he  felt,  even  more 
strongly  than  at  any  prior  moment,  the  conviction 
that  this  wily  person  was  indeed  engaged  more  in 
timately  in  directing  the  important  springs  of  party 
action,  than  could  have  been  supposed  from  the  in 
ferior  part  which  he  was  wont  to  play  in  its  osten 
sible  and  open  movements.  He  knew  not  at  the 
time,  any  more  than  four  fifths  of  the  house,  what 
were  the  secret  news  which  had  so  suddenly  pro 
duced  adjournment ;  and  had,  indeed,  himself  voted 
against  a  measure  which  he  could  not  comprehend, 
although  the  private  hints  of  Oliver  and  Hampden 
had  not  escaped  his  notice  ;  nor  could  he  now  con 
ceive  the  meaning  of  the  strong  excitement  which 
kindled  all  who  listened  to  the  words  of  Cromwell, 
as  it  were,  with  an  electric  spark.  Not  long,  how 
ever,  was  he  destined  to  remain  in  ignorance  ;  for, 
with  his  harsh  features  even  more  than  commonly 
inflamed  and  ruddy,  the  puritan  approached  him. 

"  Ha  !"  he  said,  in  a  loud,  sharp  whisper — "  Ha ! 
Master  Ardenne ;  how  is  this,  that  you,  to  whom  we 
confidently  looked  for  succour,  should,  in  this  strait 
and  peril,  have  turned  against  us,  consorting  with 
the  men  of  Belial  ?" 

"  I  know  not,  Master  Cromwell,"  Ardenne  re 
plied — "  I  know  not,  in  good  truth,  to  what  you  do 
allude ;  nor  have  I  heard  of  any  strait  or  peril.  I 
saw,  indeed,  that  you  and  Master  Hampden  were 
desirous  I  should  vote  for  this  adjournment;  but 


CROMWELL.  151 

seeing  no  cause  wherefore,  nor  being,  so  far  as  I 
knew  it,  your  follower  or  pledged  supporter,  assu 
redly  I  deemed  it  best  for  mine  own  honour  to 
abide  by  the  poor  dictates  of  mine  own  opinion." 

"  Call  it  you  then  no  strait,"  asked  Oliver,  with 
a  dark  sneer  upon  his  lip — "  no  strait  nor  peril,  that 
Charles  Stuart  should  dare  come  hither  with  his 
accursed  cavaliers — with  his  lewd  yeomen  and 
rakehelly  pensioners — seeking  out  whom  they  may 
devour  —  having  their  swords  new-whetted,  and 
their  hearts  a-fire,  to  shed  the  blood  of  the  saints — 
should  dare  come  hither — hither,  within  these  priv- 
ileged,.time-honoured  walls — to  lay  his  violent,  ty 
rannical  hands  on  those  with  whose  salt  only  we 
are  savoured?" 

"  What  mean  you,  sir  ? — speak  out !"  cried  Ar- 
denne.  "  Will  he  indeed  do  this  ?  Can  he  be  so 
infatuated — so  insane?" 

"  Witt  Charles  Stuart  dare  it  ?"  said  the  other ; 
"  say  rather  what  he  will-no?  dare,  if  we,  the  watch 
ers  and  the  guardians  sitting  on  the  tower,  yea !  on 
the  house-top,  to  give  note  of  coming  wo,  blow  not 
the  trumpet  through  the  land.  Yea !  will  he  come, 
and  that  right  shortly — yea !  will  he  come,  and  if 
our  hearts  be  not  the  stronger — and  our  arms  too, 
if  need  there  be — will  trample  down  the  liberties 
of  England  unto  everlasting !" 

"  Never !  no,  never !"  exclaimed  Edgar,  vehe 
mently  moved — "  No,  never  shall  he  do  so  !  never 
while  I — if  none  beside — have  sword  to  wield,  and 
hand  with  which  to  wield  it." 

"  Ay !  is  it  so  ?"  returned  the  other,  his  whole 
face  blazing  out  with  a  triumphant  ecstasy — "  Ay  ! 
is  it  so  ?  and> would  you  draw  the  carnal  sword  if 
it  were  needed  ?" 

"  Would  I  ?"  cried  Ardenne — "  would  I  unsheath 
the  sword  to  guard  these  holy  walls  from  desecra- 


152  CROMWELL. 

tion  ?  Would  I  uplift  my  arm  against  the  hireling 
ministers  of  lawless  and  despotic  violence  ? — ay, 
were  those  ministers  ten  thousand  sworded  spir 
its  !" 

"  Then  fare  thee  well,"  cried  Oliver  — "  then 
fare  thee  well,  and  hold  fast  to  thy  good  resolve, 
while  I  go  wake  the  rest  to  a  like  sense  ;  above  all, 
be  thou  in  thy  place  when  we  again  assemble,  and 
then  call  thou  me  fool  and  liar,  an'  thou  see  not 
great  things  !" 

The  interval  passed  speedily  away,  consumed 
in  wise  and  seemly  preparation.  Notice  was  de 
spatched  to  the  lord  mayor  and  corporation  of  the 
threatened  danger ;  the  citizens  were  all  admon 
ished  to  stand  upon  their  guard ;  and  members 
were  sent  down  to  the  Temple  and  the  Inns  of 
Court  to  warn  the  students  that  the  house  was  well 
aware  how  they  had  been  already  tampered  with ; 
and  to  command  they  should  not  come,  on  any  plea, 
to  Westminster;  and,  ere  the  time  appointed,  the 
house  was  crowded.  Edgar  was  in  his  place 
among  the  first ;  and  as  he  saw  the  five  obnoxious 
members  calmly  resume  their  seats,  as  though  no 
peril  threatened  them,  a  mingled  sentiment  of  ad 
miration  and  regret  thrilled  to  his  heart  at  the  idea, 
that,  if  indeed  the  king,  with  his  wild,  dissolute  at 
tendants,  should  forcibly  attempt  to  seize  them, 
they  surely  would  resist,  and  but  too  probably  be 
slaughtered  on  the  very  spot  which  they  had  made 
to  ring  so  often  with  their  proud,  patriotic  elo 
quence.  As  he  thus  thought,  a  new  impression 
shot  with  the  speed  of  light  into  his  mind — "  If 
they  be  absent — if  they  be  absent  when  he  come — • 
the  fearful  consequences  may  be  perchance  avert 
ed,  which  otherwise  must,  beyond  doubt,  result 
from  letting  loose  a  band  of  reckless  soldiery  to 
rush  in,  sword  in  hand,  on  gentlemen  armed  like- 


CROMWELL.  153 

wise,  and  almost  unanimous  to  guard  their  liber 
ties  with  life."  And  on  the  instant  he  arose,  and 
in  a  few  words,  powerful  and  manly,  moved  that 
the  house  should  grant  permission  to  those  mem 
bers  to  withdraw  themselves,  lest  tumult,  and  per 
haps  even  worse  than  tumult,  fall  of  it.  "  I  second 
it,"  cried  Cromwell,  starting  to  his  feet — "  I  second 
the  most  honourable  member's  motion.  Let  them 
withdraw  them  straightway  to  the  city  until  this 
tyranny  be  overpast."  Without  a  single  voice  or 
vote  dissentient,  the  question  then  was  carried ; 
and  the  house  gave  permission  that  they  might  re 
tire  ;  and,  at  solicitation  from  their  friends,  they  in 
stantly  departed.  Scarce  had  the  hurry  and  con, 
fusion  consequent  on  their  withdrawal  ceased,  ere 
a  dull,  trampling  noise  was  heard  without,  as  of  a 
powerful  band  of  men ;  a  word  to  halt  was  given, 
and  for  a  while  the  sound  was  hushed,  the  mem 
bers  sitting  stern  and  silent  in  their  places,  dis 
daining  to  show  any  sign  either  of  wrath  or  terror. 
Again  the  sounds  were  heard  ascending  the  great 
staircase ;  and  now  the  clink  of  steel,  as  the  broad 
blades  of  partisan  or  halberd  clashed  together — and 
now  a  shout,  "  Fall  on  !  Fall  on  !"  mixed  with  the 
shuffling  tramp  of  feet,  the  jingling  of  scabbards, 
and  all  the  bustle  that  accompanies  a  sudden  and 
disordered  march.  Nearer  and  nearer  came  the 
tumult — the  lobby  was  already  filled,  to  judge  from 
the  increasing  clatter,  with  armed  intruders ;  and 
now  the  din  of  grounded  arms  rang  audibly  upon 
the  ears  of  the  undaunted  counsellors.  Then  for 
the  first  time  was  a  show  of  passion  manifested 
among  the  younger  gentlemen — a  dozen,  at  the 
least,  impetuously  started  to  their  feet,  and  not  a 
few  grasped,  with  an  energy  that  proved  how  fear 
lessly  they  would  have  used  them,  the  hilts  of  the 
long  rapiers  which  all  of  gentle  birth  at  that  time 


154  CROMWELL. 

carried.  A  single  word,  however,  from  the  speaker 
of  the  house — a  single  cry  of  order,  sufficed  to  bring 
them  peacefully  into  their  places.  But  there  they 
sat,  with  eyes  that  actually  lightened  with  strong 
indignation,  and  with  that  fiery  aspect  of  the  glad 
iator,  which  marked  how  rapturously  they  would 
have  plunged  into  the  fiercest  conflict.  At  this  in 
stant  was  the  door  thrown  open,  and  a  messenger 
sent  in,  who  reverentially  enough  informed  the 
•  house  that  the  king  was  at  the  door,  and  that  the 
speaker  was  commanded  to  sit  still,  with  the  mace 
lying  on  the  board  before  him.  Still  not  one  word 
was  spoken — not  a  whisper — not  a  breath,  nor 
murmur,  through  that  spacious  hall! — and  every 
man  sat  fast,  with  head  unmoved,  and  eyes  fixed 
sternly  straight  before  him ;  as  if  they  did  not  so 
much  as  vouchsafe  to  cast  a  glance,  still  less  a 
thought,  toward  the  violator  of  their  rights.  Had 
there  been  aught  of  riot  or  confusion — had  there 
been  aught  of  armed  and  passionate  resistance — 
nay,  had  there  been  any  fear,  or  doubt,  or  waver 
ing,  it  then  had  been  an  easier  task  for  the  misgui 
ded  king  to  carry  out  his  frantic  and  destructive 
purpose.  But  hard  it  is,  and  most  revolting  to  all 
human  feelings,  to  outrage  and  assault  where  there 
is  neither  terror  nor  resistance.  It  was  perhaps  a 
minute  after  the  messenger  retired,  before  aught 
new  disturbed  the  silence  that  prevailed  unbroken 
beneath  the  vaulted  roof — a  mimite,  fraught  with 
the  thronged  sensations  of  unnumbered  years — a 
minute,  that  seemed  longer  than  a  life  to  every  pat 
riot  seated  there,  as  gravely  steadfast  as  those  sen 
ators  of  early  Rome,  who  waited  in  their  robes  of 
dignity,  and  on  their  curule  chairs,  the  moment 
when  the  Gallic  horde  should  pour  out  on  their 
white,  unshrinking  heads  the  cups  of  massacre 
and  vengeance.  Then  came  a  quick,  irregular 


CROMWELL.  155 

tread,  that  readily  betokened,  by  its  uncertain  time, 
the  irresolution  and  anxiety  that  were  at  work 
within  the  breast  of  him  who  was  approaching. 
"  Enter  not,  any  of  ye,  on  your  lives  !"  was  uttered 
in  the  harsh  voice  of  the  king,  before  his  person 
came  in  view — an  order  understood  by  all  who 
heard,  as  it  was  doubtless  meant  by  him  who  ut 
tered  it,  to  be  words,  empty  words,  and  spoken  for 
effect !  Then,  leaning  on  the  shoulder  of  the  pals 
grave,  Charles  Stuart  advanced !  Those  who  stood 
nearest  to  his  person  might  have  seen  a  momentary 
pause — a  brief,  involuntary  hesitation — a  reluctance, 
hardly,  perhaps,  acknowledged  to  himself,  to  cross 
what  was  to  be  the  Rubicon  of  all  his  future  for 
tunes  ;  but  so  short  was  the  pause,  so  small  the 
effort  it  required  to  conquer  that  reluctance,  that  it 
would  seem  indeed  as  if — according  to  the  classic 
proverb — destined  already  to  destruction,  he  were 
deserted  by  his  sanity  of  intellect.  Perhaps  he  had 
expected  fear — abject  and  tame  submission ! — had 
supposed  that  he  should  stride  in  triumph,  unop 
posed,  and  sued  to  on  the  bended  knee,  through 
that  magnificent  assemblage  !  Perhaps  he  had 
expected  anger,  indignation,  and  defiance  !  But 
now,  as  he  looked  up  those  lines  of  crowded 
benches,  and  met  no  glance  of  recognition — en 
countered  no  full  front  either  of  wrath  or  scorn — 
but  caught  alone,  row  behind  row,  those  stern  and 
masculine  profiles,  composed,  severe,  and  passion 
less — profiles,  averted  less  in  resentment  than  in 
proud,  contemptuous  sorrow — his  wayward  spirit 
for  a  moment's  space  recoiled,  and  he  half  wished 
the  perilous  step  untaken.  It  was  but  for  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye,  however,  that  his  rash  mood 
of  obstinacy  failed  him ;  for,  without  a  quiver  of 
his  nerves,  a  change  of  his  dark  features,  he  strode 
across  the  threshold,  about  a  pace  before  his  for- 


156  CROMWELL. 

eign  kinsman.  The  Earl  of  Roxborough,  a  tall 
and  powerful  man,  armed,  somewhat  more  than 
commonly,  with  a  long  military  sword  and  heavy 
poniard  at  his  belt,  had  followed  close  upon  his 
master's  footsteps,  until  he  also  stood  upon  the 
threshold ;  he  crossed  it  not,  however,  but  stood 
there,  leaning  with  his  whole  weight  against  the 
door,  which  opened  outwardly,  so  that  it  would 
have  been  impossible  for  any  from  within  the  house 
to  close  it — his  right  hand  resting,  as  if  carelessly, 
upon  the  pommel  of  his  war-sword,  and  his  left 
twirling,  with  a  gesture  of  unbridled  insolence,  his 
long  mustaches — while  many  a  fierce,  licentious 
countenance  might  be  seen  glaring  from  behind 
him  on  the  conservators  of  their  country's  freedom 
with  a  wild  and  wolfish  aspect  of  malignant  hatred. 
The  king  himself,  attired  as  usual  in  a  plain  garb 
of  sable  velvet,  wearing  no  weapon  but  an  ordinary 
walking-sword,  and  carrying  in  his  right  hand,  to 
gether  with  his  staff,  the  dark-plumed  beaver  which 
he  had  doffed  on  entering,  stalked  coolly  up  the 
house — the  palsgrave  following  slowly,  and,  as  it 
seemed,  with  a  half  timid  arid  reluctant  step.  Still 
all  was  silence  ! — silence  so  profound,  that,  save  the 
heavy  footsteps  of  the  monarch,  not  a  sound  could 
be  perceived — unless  it  were  when  from  without 
some  weapon-clang  was  heard,  or  some  rude  threat 
or  grisly  imprecation  was  muttered  in  the  ante 
chamber  by  the  desperate  attendants  of  a  Lunsford 
or  a  Digby.  The  face  of  Charles,  grave  and  even 
sorrowful  by  nature,  was  something  paler  than  its 
wont ;  but  with  that  sort  of  paleness  which  conveys 
no  thought  of  cowardice  or  trembling,  but  of  re 
solve  immoveable  and  icy.  His  mouth  was  firmly 
closed,  but  not  compressed,  nor  showing  aught  of 
effort !  His  eye,  calm,  searching,  cold — but  keen 
and  hard  as  iron !  His  nostril  only  of  his  features 


CROMWELL.  157 

gave  token  of  emotion,  or  of  any  feeling  hotter  than 
determination ;  for  it  was  dilated,  wide,  and  slightly 
quivering !  Yet  was  his  hand  steady  as  the  col 
umns  which  upheld  the  roof  above  him,  and  his 
stride,  now  that  he  stood  among  his  lieges — how 
ever  it  had  been  irregular  and  hasty  ere  he  entered 
— was  measured,  long,  and  equal. 

As  he  advanced  along  the  floor,  he  turned  his 
head  from  side  to  side,  perusing,  with  deliberate 
and  steady  glance,  the  lineaments  of  every  mem 
ber  whom  he  passed ;  and  if  when  at  a  distance  not 
one  eye  had  sought  him,  so  when  he  now  stood 
close  beside  them  not  one  eye  avoided  him.  Each, 
as  Charles  came  into  his  line  of  direct  vision,  met 
his  hard  gaze  with  an  unblenching  and  unloving 
brow ;  for  not  one  man — even  of  those  the  most  de 
voted  to  his  will,  of  those  who  would  have  served 
him  at  that  moment,  who  afterward  did  serve  him 
with  their  whole  hearts  and  lives — but  was  dis 
gusted,  angered,  full  of  deep  sorrow,  almost  of  de 
spair.  Little  there  was,  however,  of  the  stronger 
and  more  stormy  passions  painted  upon  the  brows 
of  those  who  sat  thus  fearlessly,  braving  the  tem 
per  of  a  king  whose  wrath  was  no  less  lasting  and 
vindictive  than  it  was  hot  and  sudden.  The  ex 
pression  that  prevailed  most  largely  was  of  min 
gled  aspect,  half  pity,  half  defiance.  But  when 
the  tyrant — for  that  action,  if  that  only,  justified 
the  title — approached  the  seat  of  Cromwell — per 
haps  at  that  day  scarcely  known  by  name  to  the 
proud  sovereign — and  his  glance  fell  upon  those 
grim,  ungainly  features — then  Ardenne  witnessed 
— for  his  eye  was  still  attracted,  why  he  knew  not, 
with  a  strange  sense  of  fascination  toward  the  pu 
ritan — then  Ardenne  witnessed  that  which  in  after 
times  he  often  called  to  mind,  and  never  without 
awe  and  wonder — a  dark  conflict  —  for  such  it 

VOL.  I.— 0 


158  CROMWELL. 

*f  •    .*. "; 

might  indeed  be  termed — a  conflict  of  eye,  coun 
tenance,  and  bearing,  between  those  men  so  emi 
nently  thrown  together,  and  blended  in  their  spheres 
of  good  or  evil  action.  The  glance  of  Charles, 
when  first  it  fell  upon  the  coarse  and  most  un- 
pleasing  lineaments  of  Oliver,  was  instantly  avert 
ed  ;  but  averted  merely  as  men  ever  turn  the  eye 
away  from  objects  naturally  hateful  or  unseemly. 
At  that  point  of  time  the  face  of  Cromwell  was  as 
tranquil,  as  immoveable,  as  that  of  his  great  future 
rival ;  but  the  tranquillity  was  no  less  different,  than 
is  the  stillness  of  a  hushed  volcano  and  the  peace 
ful  calm  of  heaven.  The  swollen  and  corded  veins 
upon  the  temple — the  eyebrows  lowered  and  con 
torted — the  balls  gleaming  beneath  them  with  a 
fixed  and  baleful  light — the  nostril  rigidly  distend 
ed,  and  the  lips  pressed  so  tightly  that  they  alone 
ofjfis  whole  aspect  were  of  a  livid  whiteness! 
E$6  Edgar  had  the  time  to  think,  had  there  been 
any  matter  yet  for  thought,  the  eye  of  Charles 
stole  back,  half  timidly  as  it  appeared,  toward  that 
tiger-like  and  glaring  face.  Then,  as  it  met  the 
sinister  and  ominous  stare  of  fierce  defiance,  it 
brightened  also — vivid,  and  keen,  and  with  a  fal 
con-like  and  noble  splendour.  For  some  short 
space  they  gazed — those  two  undisciplined  and 
haughty  spirits — into  each  other's  very  souls — 
mutually,  as  it  seemed,  conscious  at  a  glance  of 
irremediable  and  desperate  hostility.  The  king's 
look,  quiet,  although  high  and  angry,  and  most  un 
utterably  proud  ! — Cromwell's,  sarcastic,  bitter,  fu 
rious,  and  determined — and  withal  so  savagely  tri 
umphant,  so  mirthful  in  its  dire  malignity,  that 
Ardenne  thought  he  never  had  beheld  a  counte 
nance  so  fiendishly  expressive !  And  Charles 
Stuart's  aspect — after  a  fixed  encounter  of  ten 
seconds'  space — Charles  Stuart's  haughty  aspect 


CROMWELL.  159 


quailed  beneath  it ;  and,  as  he  passed  along — for 
the  whole  occurred  in  less  time  than  were  needful 
to  recite  it — he  gazed  no  more  around  him,  but 
went  directly  onward,  looking  —  and  that,  too, 
gloomily — upon  the  ground,  toward  the  speaker's 
chair.  But  the  stern  democrat,  as  conscious  that 
his  genius  had  prevailed,  cast  his  eyes  round  him 
with  an  air  of  loftier  and  more  sublimated  feeling 
than  Edgar  had  as  yet  observed  him  wear.  It  was 
a  trifle  at  the  period  when  it  passed,  and  none  but 
he  have  noticed  or  recorded  it ;  but  after  times  and 
after  deeds  stamped  it,  no  more  to  be  erased,  upon 
the  tablets  of  his  inmost  soul.  Meanwhile  the 
king  had  reached  the  chair ;  and  Lenthall,  the  bold 
speaker,  who  had  hitherto  sat  still,  as  proud  and 
far  more  placid  than  his  visiter,  arose,  and  stepped 
out  stately  and  cold  to  meet  him.  Then  the  king 
mounted  to  his  place,  and  stood  upon  the  step,  but 
spake  not,  nor  sat  down;  and  there  he  stood, 
gloomily  gazing  on  the  house,  with  a  dark  look 
of  sullen  anger,  for  many  minutes — and  after  he 
had  looked  a  great  while — "  Gentlemen,"  he  said, 
in  a  high  voice,  clearly  audible,  though  neither  mu 
sical  nor  pleasing,  to  the  most  distant  corner — 
"  Gentlemen  of  the  Commons,  I  am  sorry  for  this 
my  cause  of  coming  to  you.  Yesterday  I  did  send 
a  sergeant  to  demand  some,  who,  by  my  order, 
were  accused  of  treason.  Instead  of  prompt  obe 
dience,  I  received — a  message  !"  and  he  uttered 
the  last  word  with'  the  most  concentrated  scorn 
and  insolence — "  I  must,  then,  here  declare  to  you, 
that  though  no  king  that  ever  was  in  England  could 
be  more  careful  of  your  privileges  than  I  have  been 
— and  shall  be — yet,  I  can  tell  you,  treason  hath 
no  privilege  i — and  therefore  am  I  come  to  tell  you 
that  I  must  have  these  men,  and  will,  wherever  I 
may  find  them !"  And,  as  he  spoke,  he  looked 


160  CROMWELL. 

around  the  hall  with  a  deliberate  air,  scanning  the 
faces  of  all  present,  if  he  might  find  his  men ;  then, 
raising  his  voice  higher  yet,  he  called  aloud,  till  the 
roof  rang  again — "  Ho !  I  say,  Master  Hollis  ! — 
Master  Pym  !"  No  answer  was  returned,  nor  any 
sound ;  save  an  increased  and  angry  tumult  in  the 
lobby,  with  a  brandishing  of  partisans  and  a  pro 
ducing  of  concealed  but  ready  pistols,  so  that  some 
members  thought  to  see  the  soldiers  instantly  rush 
into  the  chamber.  After  a  little  pause,  finding  he 
got  no  answer,  he  turned  to  the  speaker — "  Say," 
he  exclaimed — "  say,  Mr.  Speaker,  be  any  of  these 
men  here  present  ?"  For  a  moment  Lenthall 
paused,  as  doubting  whether  to  hurl  his  own  defi 
ance  and  that  of  the  assembled  commons  into  his 
very  teeth ;  but,  ere  the  echoes  of  the  monarch's 
voice  had  ceased,  he  had  resolved  upon  the  wiser 
and  more  prudent  part,  and  bending,  with  most 
deferential  courtesy,  his  knee — "  I  have,  sir,"  he 
replied,  "  nor  eyes  to  see,  nor  tongue  to  speak  in 
this  place,  save  as  this  house,  whose  servant  I  am 
sworn,  shall  order  me.  And  therefore  must  I  pray 
your  majesty  to  pardon  me  that  I  return  no  farther 
answer !" 

"  Ha !  sir,"  returned  Charles,  sharply,  and  with 
incipient  fury — but  a  moment's  thought  convinced 
him  that  the  humble  answer  of  the  speaker  defied 
at  once  and  rendered  hopeless  any  charge  or  vio 
lence  against  him.  "  Ha  !  sir,"  again  he  said,  but 
in  a  milder  tone — "  I  do  believe  my  eyes  are  to  the 
full  as  good  as  yours,  and  I  do  see  my  birds  are 
flown ;  but  this  I  tell  you,  and  so  look  ye  to  it — I 
hold  this  house  to  send  them  to  me  !  Failing  of 
which,  I  shall  myself  go  seek  them !  For,  sirs, 
their  treason  is  most  foul,  and  such  as  you  shall 
thank  me,  all  of  you,  now  to  discover.  And  I  as 
sure  you — on  a  king's  word  I  assure  you — I  never 


CROMWELL.  161 

did  mean  any  violence,  and  they  shall  have  fair  trial 

—  I  meant  not  any  other  !"      He  waited  not  for 
farther  words  ;  perchance  he  doubted  what  reply 
he  might  receive  to  this  last  false   asseveration 

—  palpably,  unquestionably  false  —  for  wherefore 
brought  he  his  disbanded   soldiery,  his  rude  and 
ruffian  bravoes,  with  rapier,  partisan,  and  pistol, 
into  the  very  precincts  of  the  house  ?     Wherefore, 
unless  he  had  designed  to  hale  the  accused  mem 
bers  violently  forth  by  the  strong  arm  of  tyrannous 
authority  ? 

Stepping  down  from  the  chair,  he  walked,  un 
covered  still,  but  at  a  quicker  pace  than  that  with 
which  he  entered,  toward  the  lobby  ;  but  now,  as 
he  departed,  his  looks  were  not  turned  haughtily 
from  side  to  side,  but  sadly  bent  upon  the  floor  ; 
nor  was  his  passage  silent  as  before  —  for  member 
after  member  started  up  as  Charles  went  past  him, 
with  bent  brow  and  clinched  hand  ;  and  groans 
both  loud  and  deep  saluted  him.  As  he  came  nigh 
the  seat  of  Cromwell,  the  king  raised  his  visage, 
haggard  now  and  pale,  as  with  an  anxious  curiosity 
to  look  upon  the  man  before  whose  eye  he  felt  him 
self  to  have  recoiled  —  and,  as  he  met  it,  Oliver 
sprang  upon  his  feet,  his  long  tuck  rattling  in  the 
scabbard  as  he  rose,  and,  stamping  on  the  floor 
with  fury,  shouted  aloud,  in  tones  not  mild  nor 
measured,  the  word  "  Privilege  !"  A  dozen  voices 
took  it  up,  though  not  so  loudly  nor  with  so  marked 
defiance  as  the  first  daring  speaker,  and  the  whole 
house  was  in  the  wildest  and  most  uncontrolled 
confusion.  Delightedly  would  the  despotic  prince, 
had  he  but  dared  it,  at  that  moment  have  cried  ON  ! 

—  have  given  the  word,  expected  by  his  myrmi 
dons,  for  massacre  and  havoc  —  have  bid  the  swords, 
which  were  already  thirsting  in  their  scabbards, 
leap  forth  and  drink  their  fill  of  that  most  noble 

O  2 


.1 


162  CROMWELL. 

blood  of  England.  But,  thanks  to  Heaven,  he 
dared  not !  There  would  have  been  no  object 
worthy  of  the  risk — no  gain  to  justify  the  detesta 
tion  he  would  have  so  heaped  upon  his  head  !  He 
did  not  dare;  and  therefore,  smothering  for  the 
time  his  virulent  and  vengeful  fury,  he  departed — 
the  door  rang  heavily  behind  him ;  and  with  no 
muttered  curses  on  the  head  of  him  who  lacked 
the  spirit  to  perform  what  he  and  they  yearned 
equally  to  execute,  frustrate  of  their  desired  ven 
geance,  unsatisfied  and  balked,  his  hireling  despe 
radoes  filed  out  from  the  venerable  walls  their  pres 
ence  had  so  shamefully  polluted. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  He  hath  gone  forth ! 
Not  with  the  gorgeous  majesty  sublime 
Of  marshalled  hosts— not  with  the  brazen  din 
Of  trumps  sonorous— but  heart-sick  and  sad, 
Despairing  and  dishonoured  !     He  hath  gone — 
Gone — that  his  place  shall  never  know  him  more — 
Cursed  of  his  people— outcast  from  his  throne — 
A  dim,  discrowned  king  !" 


THE  night  fell  dark  as  Hades,  and  tempestuous 
withal.  The  winds  wailed  mournfully  at  intervals, 
at  intervals  shrieked  out  with  savage  fury  ;  and  as 
the  giant  clouds  were  driven  reelingly  across  the 
firmament,  blotting  the  faint  light  of  the  winking 
stars,  fierce  bursts  of  hail  and  rain  came  dashing  to 
the  earth,  and  ceased  as  suddenly  as  they  com 
menced.  And  ever  and  anon  the  thunder  growled 
remotely,  but  with  a  sullen  rolling  that  seemed  al 
most  continuous,  such  was  the  length  and  frequen 
cy  of  the  strong  peals — and  lightnings  flashed  on 


?**,. 

B 


CROMWELL.  163 

every  side  the  heaven,  now  in  broad,  quivering 
sheets  of  ghastly  light,  that  transiently  displayed 
the  ragged  edges  of  each  fleeting  storm-cloud  in 
distinct  relief,  and  now  in  wavy  lines  of  most  in 
tense  and  life-like  fire,  rushing  athwart  the  rack 
from  zenith  to  horizon.  Yet,  turbulent  as  was  the 
night  aloft  the  city,  and  ominous  as  showed  the 
gathering  of  the  elements,  still  more  alarming  was 
the  turbulence  that  reigned  in  the  full  streets,  and 
more  portentous  was  the  concourse  of  the  armed 
and  angry  citizens.  The  train-bands  had  been 
mustered  in  the  early  evening,  with  arquebuse  and 
pike,  their  lighted  matches  gleaming  on  all  sides 
through  the  murky  darkness,  and  the  heavy  tram 
pling  of  their  companies  everywhere  audible,  as 
they  marched  to  and  fro,  vainly  desirous  to  allay 
the  tumult  which  had  arisen  instantly  on  the  arri 
val  of  the  accused  members,  seeking  protection  in 
the  guarded,  precincts  of  the  city.  From  sunset 
until  dawn  the  mayor  patrolled  the  streets  with 
his  assistant  magistrates,  vainly  endeavouring  to 
quell  the  terrified  and  savage  populace,  with  whom 
each  court  and  alley,  from  the  purlieus  of  Alsatia 
quite  to  the  Tower,  was  blockaded  and  beset — all 
armed  as  chance  had  ordered  it,  some  with  the 
perfect  implements  of  modern  warfare,,  others  with 
weapons  obsolete  and  strange,  brown-bills,  and 
glaives,  and  maces.  Chains  were  made  fast 
athwart  the  most  frequented  avenues ;  and  barri 
cades  of  stone  and  timber,  heaped  rudely  but  ef 
fectively  together,  above  which  yawned  the  mouth 
of  many  a  ponderous  cannon,  would  have  present 
ed  no  small  obstacles  to  any  who  should  dare  in 
vade  the  sacred  limits  of  the  city.  Huge  bonfires 
blazed  in  every  quarter,  torches  and  flambeaux 
streamed  and  wavered  in  each  gust  of  wind,  cast 
ing  a  singular  and  ruddy  glare  upon  the  pallid  faces 


CROMWELL. 

and  unusual  weapons  of  the  unwashed  artisans  who 
formed  the  bulk  of  the  assemblage  ;  though  they 
were  mingled  here  and  there  with  grave  and  well- 
attired  burghers,  their  morions  and  gorgets  wildly 
at  variance  with  their  civic  garbs  and  golden  chains 
— with  young  and  ruffling  templars,  to  whom  aught 
savouring  of  frolic  or  of  fight  was  most  congenial 
— and  with  sad-visaged  and  morose  soldadoes,  in 
suits  of  buff,  tarnished  and  soiled  by  service,  girded 
with  broad-swords  of  unwieldy  length,  fresh  from 
the  German  wars  or  the  Low  Countries,  then,  as  in 
every  after  age,  the  battle-field  of  Europe — all 
keeping  up,  throughout  the  livelong  night,  a  disso 
nance  of  tongues  as  loud  and  jarring  as  ever  rent 
the  air  around  the  heaven-defying  Babel.  At  times 
a  sudden  panic  would  run  through  the  crowd,  none 
knowing  whom  to  trust  or  whom  to  flee — a  cry 
would  ring  above  the  mingled  din — "  The  cava 
liers  !  The  cavaliers  !  Fly  !  Fly !  The  king  and  his 
wild  cavaliers  are  up  to  fire  the  city !"  and,  with 
out  waiting  to  inquire  or  to  hear,  the  mob  would 
rush  they  knew  not  whither,  trampling  the  aged 
and  the  feeble  under  foot,  and  turning  oftentimes 
the  very  weapons  they  had  belted  on  to  guard  their 
liberties  against  each  other  in  the  blind  and  reeling 
rout.  And  now,  with  words  of  fire  and  gestures 
of  defiance,  some  bolder  spirit  would  brave  the 
panic-stricken  throng,  and  rally  it  and  lead  it  back, 
with  brandished  arms  and  inflamed  features,  to 
meet  the  foemen  who  existed  only  in  their  ima 
ginations,  maddened  with  terror  and  excitement. 

Nor  was  the  panic  and  confusion  slighter  within 
the  royal  palace.  Between  the  hapless  king  and 
his  perfidious  consort,  distrust — recrimination — 
wrath — followed  by  feigned  repentance  on  the  one 
hand — uxorious  pardon  on  the  other !  Among  the 
counsellors,  dismay  and  doubt — high  words,  and 


CROMWELL.  165 

mutual  reproaches,  and  all  the  vehement  disorder 
that  ensues  on  the  adoption  and  discomfiture  of  evil 
counsels  !  Digby  and  Lunsford  wearying  Charles, 
faint-hearted  now  and  dubious,  for  permission  to 
assail  the  city  gates,  and  drag  the  impeached  trai 
tors  forth  from  their  stronghold  at  point  of  partisan 
and  pike  ! — Others  deploring  the  rash  steps  already 
taken,  and  protesting  against  farther  violence  ! — 
and  some,  the  nobler  and  more  upright  spirits — 
Falkland,  and  Hyde,  and  their  associates — holding 
themselves  aloof  in  deep,  resentful  sorrow,  that  all 
their  wisdom  had  been  wasted,  and  themselves  dis 
trusted  and  deceived.  Never  a  longer  night  was 
followed  by  a  sadder  morning ;  for,  although  day 
light  calmed  the  terror  and  the  tumult,  it  allayed 
nothing  of  the  concentrated  wrath,  diminished  noth 
ing  of  the  jealous  apprehensions  entertained  by 
either  party.  After  a  short  debate,  the  parliament, 
both  lords  and  commons,  adjourned  for  several 
days,  appointing  a  committee  to  sit  constantly, 
mornings  and  afternoons,  at  Merchants'  Hall,  with 
in  the  city  walls,  where  they  might  be  secure  from 
farther  outrage,  and  free  to  devise  means  for  vindi 
cation  of  their  members,  and  safeguard  of  their  vio 
lated  rights.  Edgar,  informed  of  the  commotions, 
and  anxious  for  the  safety  of  the  city,  called  for  his 
horse  the  moment  after  the  adjournment,  and,  with 
some  six  or  seven  followers,  well  mounted  and 
equipped,  rode  up  the  Strand — a  scattered  street 
at  that  day,  occupied  by  the  suburban  dwellings  pf 
the  rich  and  noble,  with  terraced  gardens  sloping 
downward  to  the  Thames — full  of  calm  resolution, 
and  intending  instantly  to  volunteer  his  aid  for  put 
ting  down  the  riots,  and  establishing  some  govern 
ance  of  law.  When  he  reached  Temple-Bar  the 
gates  were  closed  with  bolt  and  chain,  a  powerful 
band  of  musketeers,  with  gun  and  bandoleers,  man- 


166  CROMWELL. 

ning  its  loops,  and  mustering  at  every  window  that 
overlooked  the  area  before  it.  But,  at  announce 
ment  of  his  quality  and  name,  the  bolts  were  drawn, 
the  heavy  leaves  unfolded,  and  he  entered  amid 
presented  arms  and  muttered  greetings  of  the  sen 
tinels.  With  a  pleased  eye  he  saw  at  once  that 
order  was  restored  ;  suspicion  still  prevailed,  and 
vigilance,  but  tumult  and  confusion  had  given  way 
to  wise  and  watchful  regulation.  The  shops  were 
shut,  and  business  was  suspended,  it  is  true,  and 
all  men  who  went  forth  wore  weapons ;  but  the 
trained-bands  patrolled  the  streets,  with  magistrates 
at  the  head  of  every  company,  no  less  to  enforce 
internal  quiet  than  to  resist  external  force.  Scarce 
had  he  ridden  twenty  yards  within  the  gate  ere  a 
fresh  summons  roused  the  wardens,  and  a  king's 
messenger,  after  some  parley,  was  admitted,  and 
conducted  by  a  file  of  infantry  to  hearing  of  the 
aldermen,  then  sitting  at  the  Guildhall.  The  busi 
ness  on  which  Ardenne  came  directing  him  to  the 
same  quarter,  and  strong  anxiety  to  learn  the  future 
movements  of  the  court  still  farther  prompting  him, 
he  at  once  wheeled  to  the  rear  of  this  small  band, 
and,  passing  onward  with  them,  was  ushered  in 
without  delay  to  the  mayor's  presence,  and,  in 
consideration  of  his  place  in  parliament,  accommo 
dated  with  a  seat  whence  he  might  witness  the 
proceedings  of  the  day,  and  lend  his  counsel,  if 
need  were,  to  these  the  magnates  of  the  city.  To 
his  astonishment,  as  to  that,  indeed,  of  all,  the  mes 
senger  announced  that  his  majesty  was  already  en 
tering  his  coach  to  wait  upon  the  mayor,  when  he 
had  left  Whitehall;  and  that  he  prayed  that  digni 
tary  to  call  a  common  council  on  the  instant.  Sir 
Richard  Gourney,  the  then  holder  of  that  office, 
although  inclined  not  slightly  to  the  principles  of 
the  decided  royalists,  disclaiming,  as  did  all  the 


CROMWELL.  167 

wiser  of  the  party,  any  participation  in,  or  knowl 
edge  of,  a  course  which,  now  that  it  had  failed, 
they  all  professed  to  disapprove,  was  careful  to 
display  no  symptom  of  subserviency ;  perhaps,  in 
deed,  he  truly  felt  that  wrong  had  been  committed, 
and  was  sincere,  as  he  was  evidently  faithful  to  his 
trust,  in  the  determination  to  maintain  inviolate  the 
privileges  of  which  he  was  the  guardian.  The 
council  was  at  the  time  in  session,  and  scarcely 
had  the  messenger  withdrawn  before  the  king  ar- 
'  rived — not  with  the  armed  and  dissolute  attendants 
who  had  convoyed  him  to  the  halls  of  parliament, 
but  with  some  two  or  three  lords  only,  and  those 
of  the  most  moderate  among  his  partisans.  The 
shouts  that  ran  like  wildfire  along  the  crowded 
streets,  mingled  with  groans  and  yells — the  cries, 
"  Privilege  !  Privilege  of  parliament !" — announced 
his  presence  at  the  doors  of  the  Guildhall  before 
he  had  alighted  from  his  coach,  and  clearly  proved 
the  temper  of  the  now  thoroughly-aroused  and  fear 
less  multitude;  while,  as  a  token  of  the  perfect 
mastery  of  the  law  even  at  that  moment  of  tre 
mendous  and  wellnigh  unparalleled  excitement,  a 
daring  pamphlet-writer,  who  had  thrown  into  the 
monarch's  coach  a  paper,  bearing  inscribed  the 
scriptural  watchword,  "  To  your  tents,  O  Israel," 
was  instantly  committed  for  contempt.  The  city 
dignitaries  rose  indeed  from  their  seats  on  the 
king's  entrance ;  they  tendered  to  him  all — all,  to 
the  most  minute  particulars — that  was  his  due  of 
reverence  and  ceremonial  greeting  ;  but  there  was 
no  heart-inspired  applause — no  loyal,  spirit-stirring 
cry,  "  God  save  the  king !" — no  smile — no  welcome ! 
Strange  it  may  seem,  yet  he  had  hoped  indeed,  in 
fatuated  man,  that  he  should  now  succeed  in  gain 
ing  the  authorities  to  yield  their  honoured  guests 
to  his  demand ;  and  so  commenced  what  he  es- 


168  CROMWELL. 

teemed  a  rnild,  conciliatory  harangue,  requiring 
their  surrender — full  of  false  statements  of  his  ven 
eration  and  regard,  in  all  past  time,  for  England's 
laws  and  liberties — of  his  affection  for  the  Protest 
ant  religion — of  his  enforcement  of  the  penal  stat 
utes  against  the  dreaded  papists — and  no  less  full 
of  promises,  unmeaning,  insincere,  and  empty,  con 
cerning  his  intentions  for  the  future.  Little  ap 
plause  and  no  obedience  followed  !  Baffled  a  sec 
ond  time,  and  yet  more  deeply  mortified,  he  left 
the  Guildhall — but,  desirous  still  of  pleasing,  and 
imagining,  short-sighted  and  deluded  prince,  that, 
by  a  slender  show  of  condescension,  he  could  efface 
the  recollection  of  so  many  arbitrary  acts  against 
the  corporate  and  individual  interests  of  the  city, 
he  vouchsafed  to  one — the  worse  affected  toward 
his  person — of  the  sheriffs  the  honour  of  dining  at 
his  house  ; — was  served,  together  with  his  retinue, 
with  more  than  courtly  luxury — with  all  respect 
and  honour,  paid,  not  to  himself,  but  to  the  station 
which  he  so  ill  occupied — but  with  no  semblance 
of  that  glad  alacrity,  that  honest  and  ungrudging 
heart-service,  which  is  well  worth  a  world  of  bend 
ed  knees  and  hollow  ceremonial ; — and  in  the  even 
ing — harassed  in  spirit  and  fatigued  in  body,  irri 
tated  by  the  reproachful  hootings  of  the  multitude 
that  jarred,  at  every  instant  of  his  homeward  prog 
ress,  on  his  reluctant  ear,  and  hopeless  now  of  com 
passing  his  tyrannical  ends — retired  ta  his  palace, 
there  to  give  impotent  and  childish  vent  to  his  in 
dignant  spleen,  by  publishing  a  proclamation  against 
all  men  who  should  presume  to  harbour  or  conceal 
the  persons  whom  he  had  previously  denounced  as 
traitors.  Days  passed  away;  each  marked  by 
some  bold  resolution  of  the  commons  —  by  in 
creased  tokens  of  the  deep  respect  and  admiration 
entertained  by  the  great  bulk  of  the  metropolis  to- 


CROMWELL.  169 

ward  the  vindicators  of  its  rights — and  by  some 
weak  and  useless  aggravation  of  his  former  meas 
ures  on  the  part  of  the  misguided  and  wife-gov 
erned  monarch.  A  week  had  scantly  rolled  above 
their  heads,  before  the  house,  conscious  of  its  own 
strength,  and  knowing  the  entire  impotence  of  the 
king's  party,  determined  to  bring  back  their  mem 
bers  to  Westminster,  as  being  men  against  whom 
no  legitimate  or  constitutional  charge  was  pending ; 
and  preparation  of  unwonted  splendour  and  extent 
was  made  for  reconducting  them  in  triumph  to 
their  seats.  The  news  might  not  escape  the  ears 
of  Charles,  bruited  as  it  was  all  joyously  abroad 
through  every  class  of  persons,  and  pleasing  as  it 
was  to  nearly  all — for  not  a  few,  even  of  those  who 
heretofore  had  backed  him  with  their  voices  and 
opinions  in  all  his  troubles,  and  who  in  after  days 
as  faithfully  assisted  him  with  life  and  fortune, 
were  not  entirely  soriy  for  the  occurrence  of  a 
marked  reverse,  which  might,  they  fondly  hoped, 
avail  to  check  him  in  his  inordinate  and  reckless 
cravings — cravings  which,  to  their  own  eyes,  they 
could  not  now  disguise  or  palliate — for  power,  un 
constitutional  at  least,  if  not  tyrannical  and  abso 
lute.  Bitter — most  bitter — were  his  feelings,  as 
he  went,  ungreeted  by  one  loyal  acclamation — his 
absence  unlamented  by  one  loyal  tear — forth  from 
the  palace  of  his  fathers — almost  alone  in  actual 
fact,  but  absolutely  so  in  sentiment — the  queen,  for 
whose  sake  mainly  he  had  embroiled  himself  with 
his  true-hearted  subjects,  ungratefully  and  spite 
fully  upbraiding  him,  not  for  the  folly  of  his  meas 
ures,  but  for  his  failure  in  their  execution — his 
courtiers,  who  had  urged  him  on  to  every  fresh 
aggression,  and  lauded  every  new  caprice,  now  si 
lent  and  dejected — and  the  very  guards  who  rode 
before  his  coach  dispirited  and  crest-fallen. 
VOL.  I.— P 


170  CROMWELL. 

Bitter — most  bitter — were  his  feelings  ;  but  it 
was  not  with  the  bitterness  of  manly  and  upright 
repentance — not  with  the  bitterness  upspringing 
from  the  sense  of  wrong  committed,  and  resulting 
in  a  promise  of  amendment — but  with  the  bitter 
ness  of  discontent  and  disappointment,  of  unholy 
wishes  frustrated,  and  merited  reverses  sullenly 
remembered.  Such  were  the  feelings  of  that  bad 
monarch  and  unhappy  man  as  he  drove  forth — that 
BO  he  might  avoid  the  triumph  of  his  disaffected 
subjects — after  the  shades  of  early  evening  had  al 
ready  gathered  dark  and  cold  about  the  misty 
streets,  toward  Hampton  Court,  as  virtually  ex 
iled  from  the  metropolis  of  his  oppressed  and 
groaning  country,  and  from  the  jeoparded,  dishon 
oured  throne  of  his  forefathers,  as  from  the  hearts 
of  his  once  loving  subjects. 

But  the  sun  rose  upon  a  nobler  and  more  glori 
ous  spectacle — a  spectacle  rife  with  great  blessings 
for  the  present,  and  brilliant  omens  for  the  future 
— the  spectacle  of  a  vast  people,  free  and  united  ! 
victorious,  not  by  the  sword,  nor  over  slain  and  mu 
tilated  carcasses — but  by  the  strength  of  popular 
opinion,  founded  on  the  broad  base  of  justice — ani 
mated  by  the  deathless  love  of  liberty — and  direct 
ed  by  such  a  knot  of  patriots  as  England  in  no 
other  age  had  witnessed !  On  came  the  fair  pro 
cession,  marshalled  by  loud,  triumphant  music,  and 
the  yet  louder  shouts  of  honest  and  exulting  myri 
ads  ;  gay  with  a  thousand  flags  and  banners  flaunt 
ing  to  the  wintry  sun,  which  wore,  on  that  proud 
morning,  his  brightest  and  most  gorgeous  aspect ; 
guarded  by  all  the  sober  strength  of  civil  discipline, 
and  all  the  orderly  and  bright  array  of  the  well- 
trained  militia  of  the  city ;  not  fluttering,  indeed, 
with  tasselled  scarfs  or  many-coloured  plumes, 
but  well  equipped  with  morions  of  steel,  polished 


CROMWELL. 


till  they  shone  out  like  silver,  and  stout  buff-coats, 
all  service-like  and  uniform — with  their  puissant 
pikes  thick  as  a  grove  of  pines,  their  broad  heads 
glinting  back  the  sunbeams  —  and  arquebuses 
clearly  burnished  as  when  they  left  the  armory. 
Fifty  in  front  they  marched,  in  close  and  serried 
order,  striding  along  with  regular  and  sturdy  steps, 
rank  after  rank,  each  as  a  single  man — with  that 
erect,  undaunted  bearing  which  belongs  only  to  the 
free;  and  with  the  tranquil  eye  and  calm  though 
proud  expression  which  mark  the  disciplined,  law- 
loving  citizen,  and  not  the  fierce,  unruly  democrat. 
The  companies  were  all  arrayed  beneath  the  civic 
banners  of  their  respective  wards,  and  headed  by 
their  captains,  mounted  well  on  strong  and  service 
able  chargers,  and  gallantly  equipped  in  scarlet 
cassocks  and  steel  corslets.  Behind  this  stately 
host,  preceded  by  the  bearers  of  his  mace  and 
sword,  and  all  the  glittering  insignia  of  city  pomp, 
Sir  Richard  Gourney  rode  along,  curbing  a  splen 
did  courser,  whose  footcloth,  blazoned  with  rich 
armorial  bearings,  almost  swept  the  ground,  sorely, 
as  it  would  seem,  against  his  will,  to  slow  proces 
sion  pace ;  then,  two  and  two,  in  flowing  robes  of 
scarlet,  with  chains  of  gold  about  their  necks,  and 
tall  white  feathers  floating  above  their  velvet  bon 
nets,  the  sheriffs  and  the  aldermen  advanced  ! — and 
then,  received  by  acclamations  that  were  heard  for 
many  a  mile  around,  clad  in  their  ordinary  garbs, 
and  wearing  in  their  grave  demeanour  no  tokens 
of  undue  importance  or  unfitting  exultation,  the  de 
nounced  patriots  rode  steadily  along ;  and,  headed 
by  their  speaker,  the  whole  house  of  commons  fol 
lowed.  No  banners  waved  above  them — no  gor 
geous  dresses  pointed  them  for  public  admiration 
— no  high  assumption  called  the  eye  to  them — yet, 
as  they  swept  slowly  forward,  a  band  of  gentlemen, 


172  CROMWELL. 

— mostly  of  noble,  all  of  reputable  birth — chosen 
for  worth  and  wisdom  to  be  the  delegates  of  a  great 
people — of  a  people  the  most  manly,  and  intelli 
gent,  and  free  of  the  wide  universe — they  could 
not  but  have  attracted  the  eye  and  fixed  the  un 
taught  admiration^of  the  most  stolid  or  most  sla 
vish ;  what  then  must  they  have  done  when  they 
were  passing  before  those  whose  liberties  they  had 
asserted  at  the  risk  of  all  that  men  hold  dear  ? 

Close  trooping  in  the  rear  of  these  another  strong 
battalion  of  the  train-bands  marched — several  bri 
gades  of  field  artillery,  huge,  cumbrous  iron  guns, 
with  tumbrils  following  and  matches  lighted,  rat 
tled  and  groaned  over  the  rugged  pavements,  and 
a  long  train  of  well-appointed  horse  of  each  denom 
ination  then  in  use — the  heavy  cuirassiers,  with 
helmets,  breast  and  back  pieces,  poldrons  and  tas- 
lets  of  bright  polished  steel,  bearing  long  two- 
edged  broad-swords,  and  pistolets  with  barrels  full 
two  feet  in  length — mounted  arquebusiers,  with 
short  but  ponderous  matchlocks  and  formidable  ra 
piers — lancers,  with  no  defensive  arms  save  morion 
and  gorget,  and  no  weapons  save  their  spears  of 
fifteen  feet  and  light  curved  sabres,  in  imitation  of 
the  Polish  horse,  already  celebrated  in  the  German 
wars — a  splendid  cavalcade,  brought  up  the  rear. 
While  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands — strong 
men  and  tottering  children,  matrons  and  hoary- 
headed  sires,  and  maidens  delicate  and  tender — 
the  vast  population  of  the  city  and  its  suburbs 
poured  out  to  meet  their  champions,  hindering 
their  progress  by  their  living  masses,  and  cling 
ing  even  to  the  horses  they  bestrode,  with  fer 
vent  prayers  and  blessings,  and  with  tears  of  holy 
joy,  and  waving  kerchiefs,  and  exulting  shouts,  to 
greet  the  people's  friends ;  and  with  wild  curses 
on  the  king  and  on  his  cavaliers,  concerning  whom 


CROMWELL.  173 

they  oft  and  sneeringly  inquired,  "  Where  be  they 
now,  and  whither  have  they  fled?"  Meanwhile 
adown  the  Thames  another  pomp  was  floating,  to 
ward  the  stairs  at  Westminster,  second,  if  second, 
only  to  the  landward  show — hundreds  of  lighters, 
pinnaces,  and  long-boats,  dressed  up  with  waist- 
cloths  and  with  streamers,  laden  with  musketry 
and  ordnance,  manned  by  a  host  of  British  mari 
ners,  whose  meteor  flag  even  then  "  had  braved,  a 
thousand  years,  the  battle  and  the  breeze,"  fur 
rowed  the  broad  and  placid  river ;  while  ever  and 
anon  the  salvos  of  their  cannon,  thundering  above 
the  din  and  clamours  of  the  mighty  concourse,  an 
nounced  to  the  disheartened  monarch,  even  in  his 
sad  retreat  at  Hampton,  the  failure  of  his  insolent 
aggressions,  and  the  triumphant  testimony  borne  by 
his  indignant  subjects  to  the  untiring  efforts  and 
undaunted  resolution  of  those  noble  spirits,  whom 
his  oppressive  madness  had  converted,  step  by  step, 
from  the  most  steady  guardians  to  the  most  con 
stant  foemen  of  his  person  and  his  crown. 
P  2 


CROMWELL. 


BOOK  II. 


"  They  have  drawn  to  the  field 
Two  royal  armies,  full  of  fiery  youth ; 
Of  equal  spirit  to  dare,  and  power  to  do  : 
So  near  intrenched,  that  'tis  beyond  all  hope 
Of  human  counsel  they  can  e'er  be  severed, 
Until  it  be  determined  by  the  sword 
Who  hath  the  better  cause ;  for  the  success 
Concludes  the  victor  innocent,  and  the  vanquished 
Most  miserably  guilty." 

MASSINGER—  The  Duke  of  Milan. 


4P, 


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\D'J  J.Jo-Z 


CHAPTER  I. 


"  Jtfa?.  —  Let  us  seek  out  some  desolate  shade,  and  there 

Weep  our  sad  bosoms  empty. 
Macd.  —  Let  us  rather 

Hold  fast  the  mortal  sword,  and  like  good  meii 
Bestride  our  downfallen  birthdorn." 

SHAKSPEARE—  Macbeth. 

A  YEAR  had  passed  since  Ardenne's  landing  on 
his  native  shores,  unfixed  of  purpose,  and,  above 
all,  an  advocate  for  peace  !  —  a  year  in  which  events 
had  taken  place  that  rendered  hopeless  all  accom 
modation  between  the  hostile  parties,  until  one 
should  have  been  proved  decidedly  superior.  The 
very  day  on  which  the  king  had  fled  from  London, 
lest  he  should  witness  the  return  of  the  five  mem 
bers  to  the  house,  having  been  signalized  by  a  most 
wild  and  ill-digested  movement  of  the  fiery  Luns- 
ford,  sufficiently  disclosed  the  intentions  of  the  roy 
alists  in  an  attempt  to  seize  a  magazine  of  arms  at 
Kingston.  Then  came  the  treachery  of  Goring  — 
the  king's  fruitless  effort  against  Hull  —  the  calling 
out  of  the  militia  —  the  arming  on  both  sides  —  and 
all  the  small  guerrilla  skirmishes  that  were  occur 
ring  daily  for  some  months  previous  to  the  nominal 
commencement  of  the  war.  The  queen,  who  had 
escaped  to  Holland,  stealing  and  bearing  with  her 
the  crown  jewels,  which  were  pawned  at  once  to 
furnish  arms,  and  men,  and  money,  was  setting 


178  CROMWELL. 

every  spring  in  motion  on  the  continent.  Rupert 
and  Maurice  had  arrived  in  England,  and  the  for 
mer  was,  on  his  first  interview,  appointed  general 
of  the  cavalry.  The  royal  standard  had  been 
raised,  some  two  months  past,  at  Nottingham,  with 
evil  omens,  and  under  auspices  the  most  unfavour 
able — a  mighty  tempest  having  poured  its  fury  on 
the  gathering  of  the  troops,  dispirited  and  few  in 
number,  and  unfurnished  with  the  most  evident 
and  indispensable  equipments  of  an  army — weap 
ons,  and  clothes,  and  ammunition.  The  flag  itself, 
displaying,  in  addition  to  the  wonted  quarterings  of 
England,  a  small  escutcheon,  charged  with  the  royal 
bearings  and  the  crown,  and  compassed  by  a  scroll, 
with  the  proud  motto,  "  Render  his  due  to  Cesar !" 
was  scarcely  elevated  ere  a  heavier  gust  of  wind, 
accompanied  with  floods  of  rain  and  a  fierce  crash 
of  thunder,  shivered  the  staff  in  twain,  and  dashed 
the  ensign  violently  to  the  ground  ;  while  such  was 
the  increasing  fury  of  the  tempest  that  two  whole 
days  elapsed  before  it  could  be  reared  again.  Still, 
although  by  this  overt  act  the  king  had  most  un 
questionably  issued  his  appeal  to  the  sword  as  to 
the  sole  remaining  arbiter,  matters  went  on  but 
heartlessly  and  slowly.  Each  side,  averse  to 
throw  away  the  scabbard,  paused  in  a  grim  and 
terrible  suspense,  irreconcileably  hostile  to  the 
other,  yet  unwilling  to  incur  the  blame  of  being 
first  to  strike,  or  foremost  to  refuse  accommoda 
tion.  The  royal  forces,  far  too  weak  to  court  the 
brunt  of  battle,  aimlessly  marched  and  counter 
marched,  levying  contributions  in  this  place,  and 
mustering  volunteers  in  that ;  while  the  superior 
party  of  the  parliament,  already  strong  enough  to 
have  surprised  and  crushed  the  royalists  at  a  single 
blow,  lay  in  their  quarters,  waiting,  as  it  would 
seem,  till  they  should  muster  resolution  to  com- 


CROMWELL.  179 

mence  hostilities.     The   truth,    which  has  been 
strangely  overlooked  by  all  historians  of  these  tur 
bulent  and  most  important  times,  was  simply  this 
— that,  in  the  outset  of  that  fearful  strife,  there  was 
but  little  difference  between  the  views,  and  hopes, 
and  fears  of  the  most  eminent  and  upright  men  of 
either  party.     How  it  should  ever  have  been  fan 
cied,  much  less  gravely  argued,  that  the  great  body 
of  the  English  gentry  and  nobility  were  anxious  to 
subvert  the  constitution,  which  had  been  freed  from 
the  arbitrary  power  of  the  Norman  princes  by  the 
sole  efforts  of  their  order,  and  to  erect  an  absolute 
and  unchecked  despotism,  which  must  have  neces 
sarily  ruined  their  own  caste,  it  is  most  difficult  in 
deed  to  comprehend  or  to  conjecture.     Nor  is  it 
less  absurd  to  hold  that  the  more  liberal  peers, 
who,  neither  few  in  number  nor  deficient  in  saga 
city,  were  enlisted  on  the  people's  side,  were  in  the 
least  degree  prepared  to  overthrow  that  ancient 
monarchy  from  which  they  all  derived  their  great 
ness,  and  to  descend  at  once  from  their  exalted 
grade   to  mere  equality  with  their  less  elevated 
countrymen.     In  simple  fact,  the  leading  men  of 
either  party  dreaded  defeat  or  victory  with  a  nearly 
equal  apprehension ;  knowing  that  such  an  over 
throw  befalling  either  host,  as  should  conclude  the , 
other  absolutely  masters  of  the  game,  would  be 
most  hopelessly  destructive  to  the  liberties  of  Eng 
land.     It  was  then  in  this  spirit  that  the  counsellors 
of  Charles,  scarcely  more  fearful  of  reverses  which 
should  deliver  them  a  prey  to  their  stern  foemen, 
than  of  success  which  would  inflame  and  aggravate 
the  monarch's  native  haughtiness,  laboured,  with  all 
their  powers,  to  bring  about  some  reconciliation; 
but  in  vain,  their  every  effort  being  frustrated  by 
the  imbecile  insincerity  and  double-dealing  of  their 
principal !     At  length,  when  the  last  hopes  were 


180  CROMWELL. 

quenched  of  peace  unbought  by  victory,  the  fiery 
Rupert,  who,  from  the  first,  had  been  the  open  ad 
vocate  of  instant  battle,  acting  with  indefatigable 
and  almost  sleepless  energy,  collected  horses,  men, 
and  cannon  from  the  northern  and  the  midland  coun 
ties,  until  the  royal  army  amounted  to  the  number 
of  ten  thousand — three  foot  brigades  under  Sir  Ja 
cob  Astley,  and  the  Earl  of  Lindsey,  an  officer  ex 
perienced  in  the  wars  of  the  Low  Countries — three 
dragoon  regiments,  to  act  as  horse  or  infantry  as 
need  might  be,  under  Sir  Arthur  Aston — Lord 
Bernard  Stuart  commanding  the  king's  guards,  a 
troupe  dorte,  composed  entirely  of  gentlemen, 
whose  annual  incomes  are  said  to  have  exceeded 
the  united  fortunes  of  all  the  members  who,  at  the 
outbreaking  of  the  war,  were  voters  in  both  houses 
— a  good  park  of  artillery,  under  the  trusty  Sir  John 
Heydon — and  the  adventurous  prince — himself  a 
host — leading  the  cavalry,  consisting  of  the  very 
flower  of  the  youthful  gentry,  practised  in  arms, 
and  high  in  chivalrous  and  daring  spirit.  Then, 
early  in  October,  having  resolved  to  strike  a  blow, 
and  anxious  to  give  battle  to  his  enemies,  the  king 
marched  hastily  from  Shrewsbury  upon  the  capital. 
Meantime  the  Earl  of  Essex,  who  had  been  re 
cently  appointed  by  the  parliament  their  general- 
in-chief,  left  the  metropolis  with  an  array  some  fif 
teen  thousand  strong,  more  thoroughly  equipped 
and  better  armed  than  were  the  gentlemen  of  the 
opposing  host,  but  far  inferior  to  them  in  that  sus 
tained  and  burning  spirit,  which  is  of  more  avail 
than  tenfold  numbers  in  the  day  of  battle.  The 
earl's  instructions  were  to  tender  to  the  king  a  joint 
petition  of  the  houses — beseeching  him  to  leave  the 
gathering  of  malignants,  whose  ill  counsels  had  so 
far  prevailed  to  alienate  him  from  his  loving  sub 
jects,  and  to  repair  at  once  to  the  vicinity  of  his 


CROMWELL.  181 

most  loyal  parliament — and,  in  the  case  that  this 
petition  should  prove  of  none  effect,  to  rescue  him, 
by  force  of  arms,  from  the  foul  traitors  who  sur 
rounded  and  misled  him.     To  this  intent,  he  was 
prpvided  with  all  the  requisites  that  constitute  an 
army — a   heavy  train  of  well-arranged  artillery, 
with  ammunition  and  supplies  of  all  Idnds  in  pro 
fuse  abundance — a  powerful  brigade  of  horse,  under 
the  Earl  of  Bedford  and  Sir  William  Balfour;  and 
a  picked  body  of  the  London  train-bands,  well  dis 
ciplined  and  admirably  well  appointed !     Among 
the  numerous  nobles  who  accompanied  the  general 
of  the  parliament,  two,  perhaps,  merit  an  especial 
notice — the  young  lords  Rochford  and  Feilding — 
as  being  destined  soon  to  meet,  as  foemen  in  the 
shock  of  battle,  their  own  fathers,  the  earls  of  Do 
ver  and  of  Denbigh,  who  were  enrolled  as  volun 
teers  in  the  king's  guard  of  horse  !     Many  there 
were,  indeed,  in  this  array,  who  yielded  not  in  spirit 
or  in  valour  to  the  proudest  cavalier  of  Charles  ! — 
many  who  panted  for  the  onset  with  all  the  patri 
otic  zeal  of  freemen  trampled  and  oppressed — with 
all  the  bitter  and  fanatic  rancour  of  religious  preju 
dice — and  these  were  more  than  matches  for  the 
best  of  Rupert's  soldiery ! — but  more  were  doubt 
ful,  and  reluctant,  and  affected   by  the  cold   and 
backward  spirit  of  their  leaders,  who  felt,  perhaps, 
a  secret  apprehension  that,  in  battling  for  the  liberty 
and  constitution  of  their  land,  they  might  in  some 
degree  be  warring  with  the  interests  of  their  order. 

Such  was  the  aspect  of  affairs,  and  such  the 
state  of  parties,  when,  on  a  brilliant  morning  to 
ward  the  last  days  of  October,  a  gallant  regiment 
of  horse  was  winding  through  the  deep  green  lanes 
and  devious  woodlands  of  Northampton  toward  the 
little  town  of  Keinton,  distant,  perhaps,  some  twen 
ty  miles,  at  which  it  was  beginning  to  be  understood 

VOL.  I.— Q 


182  CROMWELL. 

that  Essex  had  established  his  headquarters.  An 
animating  spectacle  they  formed,  and  lively,  as 
they  gleamed  out  and  disappeared  among  the  lofty 
hedges  and  dense  coppices,  still  glorious  in  the 
leafy  garniture  of  variegated  autumn,  their  polish 
ed  armour  glinting  back  the  cloudless  sunshine  in 
long  and  dazzling  flashes,  their  colours  fluttering 
in  the  cheerful  breeze,  their  videttes  warily  survey 
ing  every  thicket,  the  matches  of  their  arquebuses 
ready  kindled,  and  their  extended  lines  sweeping 
along  the  irregular  wood-roads  in  serpentine  and 
wavy  order — pausing  at  every  brook  or  dell  where 
they  might  possibly  be  set  upon  at  disadvantage, 
until  their  advanced  guard  should  fall  back  with 
tidings  that  their  path  was  unobstructed — and  va 
rying  their  array  from  open  file  to  solid  column,  as 
the  nature  of  the  ground  might  dictate.  The  leader 
of  this  splendid  body  was  a  fine-looking  figure,  in 
the  prime  of  life,  well  formed  and  stately,  and  far 
above  the  ordinary  height  of  men.  He  wore  a 
military  coat  of  strong  buff  leather,  garnished  with 
fringe  of  tawny  silk  three  inches  broad,  and  loops 
of  golden  braid,  partially  covered  by  a  breast-plate 
and  its  corresponding  back-piece,  polished  till 
they  shone  bright  as  silver.  He  had  no  gorget, 
but  a  rich  cravat  of  Flanders  lace,  with  long,  trans 
parent  ends,  half  veiling  the  clear  steel  on  which  it 
fell.  His  dark  curled  hair  flowed  down  his  neck 
beneath  the  rim  of  a  steel  cap  or  morion,  exquis 
itely  damasked,  but  without  crest  or  feather ;  his 
hands  were  guarded  by  high  gauntlets,  and  his 
lower  limbs  by  breeches  of  the  same  material,  simi 
larly  ornamented  with  his  cassock,  and  strong  jack 
boots  that  would  have  set  a  sabre-cut  at  naught. 
His  sword,  a  two-edged,  basket-hilled  rapier  of  un 
common  length,  hung  from  an  orange-coloured 
scarf,  betokening  his  adherence  to  the  parliament 


CROMWELL.  183 

— its  army  having  adopted  for  their  badge  that  col 
our  frorrAhe  ancient  liveries  of  Essex,  as  the  cav 
aliers  had  assumed  for  their  distinctive  uniform 
black  feathers  and  blue  shoulder-knots — although 
the  fashion  of  his  garments  and  the  general  bearing 
of  the  wearer  were  more  in  character  with  the  de 
meanour  and  the  principles  of  their  opponents,  than 
of  those  stern  and  gloomy  fanatics  who  are  so  gen 
erally  and  so  erroneously  believed  to  have  compo 
sed  the  great  numerical  strength  of  the  liberal,  or 
— to  speak  more  justly — constitutional  party.  The 
animal  he  rode,  a  mare  of  splendid  action,  symme 
try,  and  size,  was  evidently  a  practised  charger, 
and  accoutred,  as  became  one,  with  demipique  and 
holsters,  and  all  that  goes  to  the  equipment  of  a 
war-horse.  In  these  minutiae,  no  less  than  in  the 
accurate  array  and  perfect  discipline  of  the  tall, 
hardy-looking  youths  who  rode  along  behind  him 
in  the  strictest  silence — in  the  condition  and  the 
bitting  of  the  horses — and,  above  all,  in  the  cool 
intelligence  with  which  he  listened  to  the  varying 
reports  of  his  subordinates,  the  quick,  decisive 
firmness  which  made  known,  and  the  prompt  en 
ergy  which  carried  out,  his  orders — might  be  dis 
covered  at  a  glance  the  officer  of  many  actions  ! — 
the  soldier  on  whose  mind  no  lesson  of  experience 
had  been  lost,  until  his  very  nature  was  no  more 
the  same ;  that  which  was  once  an  effort — once 
the  result  of  intricate  and  thoughtful  calculation, 
arising  now  from  an  intuitive  foreknowledge,  more 
like  the  wondrous  instinct  of  an  animal  than  the 
deep  reasoning  combinations  of  a  man  ! 

It  lacked,  perhaps,  an  hour  of  noon  when  this  de 
tachment,  having  extricated  itself,  without  so  much 
as  hearing  of  an  enemy,  from  the  wide  tracts  of 
woodland,  portions  of  which  may  still  be  seen  in 
the  adjacent  counties  of  Huntingdon  and  Bedford,. 


184  CROMWELL. 

had  reached  the  summit  of  a  considerable  emi 
nence  ;  which,  falling  away  steeply  toward  the 
west,  commanded  an  extensive  view  over  the  vel 
vet  pastures  of  Northampton,  checkered  with  corn 
fields  and  dark  tracts  of  fallow — with  many  a  white 
washed  cottage  peering  from  out  the  foliage  of  its 
orchards,  and  many  a  village  steeple,  with  its  mossy 
graves  and  tufted  yew-trees,  and  here  and  there 
some  castellated  mansion,  scarce  seen  amid  its 
shadowy  plantations  —  stretching  away  till  they 
were  bounded  far  to  westward  by  the  blue  hills 
of  Warwickshire.  Just  on  the  brow  of  the  decliv 
ity  there  stood  a  large  and  isolated  farm,  writh  sta 
bling  and  outhouses  sufficient  to  accommodate  a 
hundred  head  of  cattle ;  upon  the  green  before  it 
the  leader  of  the  party  drew  his  bridle,  and,  after 
a  quick  glance  across  the  champaign  at  his  feet, 
and  another  toward  the  sun,  which  had  already 
passed  its  height,  entering  the  dwelling,  held  short 
consultation  with  the  sturdy  yeoman  who  possessed 
the  fertile  acres.  Before  five  minutes  had  elapsed 
he  issued  from  the  lowly  doorway,  ordering  his 
party  to  dismount  and  pile  their  arms,  and  take 
what  brief  refreshment  the  farmhouse  might  offer 
during  an  hour's  halt.  A  hasty  bustle  followed,  as 
down  the  troopers  sprang  with  jingling  spur  and 
scabbard,  and  merriment  suppressed  no  longer  by 
the  rigid  discipline  enforced  upon  the  march — no 
oaths,  however,  or  profane  and  Godless  clamours 
were  heard,  disgracing  equally  the  officers  who  tol 
erated  and  the  men  who  uttered  them.  Gayety 
there  was,  and  decent,  sober  mirth,  but  naught  of 
boisterous,  much  less  licentious  revelling.  Vi- 
dettes  were  stationed  on  commanding  points,  pa 
trols  detailed — and  then,  the  horses  picketed  and 
well  supplied  with  provender,  fires  were  lighted, 
and  canteens  produced  with  all  their  savoury 


CROMWELL.  185 

stores ;  and  the  men,  stretched  at  length  on  the 
smooth  greensward,  chatted  and  laughed  as  gavly 
over  their  hurried  meal  as  though  they  were  en 
gaged  in  some  exciting  sylvan  exercise,  and  not  in 
the  tremendous  toil  of  warfare.  The  hour  allotted 
for  their  stay  had  \vellnigh  passed — when,  from 
their  farther  outpost,  a  horseman  galloped  in, 
bloody  with  spurring,  and,  driving  through  the  scat 
tered  groups,  flung  his  rein  heedlessly  upon  his 
charger's  neck,  and  turned  him  loose  before  the 
door — while,  with  an  air  betokening  the  conscious 
ness  of  bearing  high  and  stern  intelligence,  he  hast 
ened  to  convey  his  tidings  to  his  officer.  There 
needed  not,  however,  words  to  tell  the  men  that 
danger  was  at  hand !  A  moment's  anxious  gaze  at 
the  vidette,  and  the  jest  ceased,  the  flagon  was  sus 
pended  ere  it  reached  the  thirsty  lip,  the  laugh  was 
not  laughed  out !  Another  moment,  and  the  fires 
were  all  deserted — the  remnants  of  the  meal  laid 
hastily  aside — horses,  recruited  by  their  feed,  were 
bridled — swords  buckled  on,  and  helmets  braced, 
and  firearms  inspected ;  and,  ere  their  leader  came 
again  among  them,  in  anxious  conversation  with 
the  messenger,  they  waited  to  mount  only  till  the 
ready  trumpets  should  sound  boot  and  sad'dle  ! 

"  Get  you  to  horse  !"  he  said — "  get  you  to  horse 
as  silently  as  may  be  !  But  spare  your  breath," 
he  added,  turning  abruptly  to  the  bugler,  who  was 
already  handling  his  instrument,  "  till  it  be  needed 
for  a  charge,  which,  an'  we  be  so  lucky  as  I  deem 
we  are,  it  may  be — and  right  early  !  Sir  Edmund 
Winthrop,  have  your  men  into  line  as  speedily  as 
may  be ;  but  move  not  until  farther  signal !  My 
charger,  Anderton  —  and  let  a  sergeant's  guard 
mount  instancy !  I  go  to  reconnoitre — a  bugler 
with  the  party.  Soh!  Steady,  men,  steady  !" — and, 
without  farther  pause,  he  leaped  into  his  saddle 
Q  2 


186  CROMWELL. 

and,  followed  by  the  small  detachment,  galloped 
at  a  fierce  pace  down  the  hill-side,  rugged  and  bro 
ken  as  it  was,  in  company  with  the  patrol  who  had 
brought  in  the  tidings.  Close  to  the  bottom  of  the 
hill  whereon  the  troops  were  halting  there  ran  a 
deep  and  hollow  gorge,  cutting  across  the  road 
which  they  had  kept  thus  far  directly  at  right  an 
gles,  and  screened  from  observation  on  the  upper 
side  by  a  long,  straggling  belt  of  furze  and  under 
wood,  with  here  and  there  a  huge  and  weather- 
beaten  oak  or  glossy  beech,  forming  the  outskirts 
of  a  heavy  mass  of  forest  that  fringed,  for  several 
miles  in  length,  the  extreme  left  of  the  level  coun 
try  across  which  their  line  of  march  would  lead 
them.  Through  this  gorge,  as  the  sentinel  report 
ed,  a  powerful  force  of  cavalry  was  moving  toward 
the  causeway  at  scarcely  two  miles  distance ;  but 
whether  friends  or  foes  he  might  not,  as  he  said, 
determine.  Checking  his  charger  at  the  junction 
of  the  roads,  the  officer  dismounted ;  and,  taking 
off  his  head-piece  lest  its  glitter  should  betray  him, 
stole  forward  through  the  trees  to  a  high  sandstone 
bluff  commanding  the  whole  gorge.  From  this  he 
instantly  discovered  the  approaching  troops,  who 
had  so  nearly  come  upon  him  unawares.  There 
were  at  least  five  hundred  horse  in  view,  all  cuiras 
siers  completely  cased  in  steel,  escorting,  as  it 
seemed,  a  strong  brigade  of  field  artillery.  When 
first  they  had  been  seen  by  the  vidette,  they  were 
emerging  from  the  forest-land  alluded  to  before, 
and  had  attempted,  as  he  said,  a  cross-road  visible 
from  the  hill-side  ;  but  it  had  proved  so  miry,  as  he 
judged  from  the  slow  progress  of  the  guns,  that 
they  had  countermarched,  and  were  advancing 
steadily,  as  now  beheld,  under  the  guidance  of  a 
countryman  who  rode  beside  their  .leader,  toward 
the  sandy  gorge  by  which  they  evidently  hoped  to 


CROMWELL. 


gain  the  practicable  road.  Earnestly  did  the  wary 
partisan  gaze  on  the  glittering  columns,  searching 
their  movements,  and  examining  their  dress  and 
arms  with  eager  scrutiny,  and  ever  and  anon 
sweeping  the  country  in  their  rear  with  an  inqui- 
ring  glance,  that  seemingly  expected  farther  indica 
tions  from  that  quarter.  But  it  was  all  in  vain  ! 
The  regiment  in  view  wore  neither  scarfs,  nor  any 
badge  that  might  inform  him  of  their  politics  or 
party — their  colours  were  all  furled  around  the 
staves  and  cased  in  oil-skin — and  all,  from  which 
he  might  in  anywise  conjecture  of  whether  host 
they  formed  a  portion,  was  the  exact  and  veteran 
discipline  their  movements  indicated — far  too  ex 
act,  as  he  supposed  from  the  reports  prevailing 
through  the  country,  for  the  tumultuary  levies  of 
the  Puritans.  The  hollow  way  on  which  they 
were  advancing  opened,  at  a  mile's  distance,  on  the 
plain,  and  it  appeared  that  the  new-comers  were 
about  to  enter  it  unthinking  of  surprise,  and  confi 
dent,  perhaps,  in  their  own  power.  "  If  they  be 
foes,  we  have  them  !"  cried  the  partisan.  "  Back, 
Anderton,  back  to  the  regiment — ride  for  yonr  life  ! 
— tell  Major  Armstrong  to  lead  down  three  troops — 
dismounted,  with  their  arquebuses  ready,  and  their 
matches  lighted — beneath  the  cover  of  yon  dingle 
on  the  hill-side  till  he  shall  reach  this  gorge,  then 
line  it  with  his  musketry  !  Let  Ansiruther  wheel, 
with  three  more,  about  yon  round-topped  hillock — 
in  half  an  hour  he  may  debouche  upon  the  plain — 
or  sooner,  if  he  hear  our  shot — and  charge  upon  the 
rear  of  yon  horse-regiment — they  will  be  in  the 
trap  ere  then  !  Sir  Edmund  Winthrop  will  lead 
down  the  rest  by  the  same  road  we  came — I  tarry 
him  !  Away  !  Be  swift  and  silent !  Away  !  for 
more  than  life  is  on  your  speed !"  and,  with  the 
word,  the  subaltern  dashed  furiously  away,  spurn- 


188  CROMWELL. 

ing  the  pebbles  high  into  the  air  at  every  bound, 
and  instantly  was  lost  to  sight  behind  the  angle  of 
the  sandy  banks,  while  he  who  had  commanded, 
after  another  wistful  gaze  toward  the  approaching 
squadron,  returned  with  leisurely  and  quiet  steps 
to  his  good  charger.  With  his  own  hands  he  drew 
the  girths  more  tight,  looked  to  each  strap  and 
buckle  of  his  rein  and  stirrups,  patted  her  arched 
crest  with  a  fleeting  smile,  and  mounting,  rode, 
with  half  a  dozen  followers,  sharply  along  the 
gorge,  as  if  to  meet  the  strangers,  who  now  seemed 
disposed  to  pause  upon  the  plain,  and  reconnoitre, 
ere  they  should  enter  a  defile  so  perilous  and  nar 
row.  Just  at  this  moment — while  a  score  or  two 
of  troopers  rode  out  from  the  advanced  guard  of 
the  horse,  which  had  now  halted,  and  warily  dis 
persing  themselves  among  the  broken  ground,  be 
gan  to  beat  the  thickets  with  deliberate  and  jealous 
scrutiny — a  low,  stern  hum  arose  from  the  dark 
corps  of  cuirassiers — increasing  still  and  swelling 
on  the  ear,  till  it  was  clearly  audible  for  a  full  mile 
around,  a  burst  of  deep-toned,  manly  voices — harsh 
perhaps  in  themselves,  and  tuneless,  but  harmonized 
by  distance  and  the  elastic  atmosphere  on  which 
they  floated,  till  they  were  blended  at  least  into 
a  solemn  and  melodious  sound.  Louder  they  rose, 
and  louder  on  the  breeze,  and  now  were  answered 
by  a  faint  and  dream-like  echo  from  out  the  dim 
aisles  of  the  forest  in  their  rear,  among  the  leafy 
screens  of  which  the  arms  and  standards  of  another 
and  another  band  might  fitfully  be  seen  to  glitter. 
It  was  the  soul-inspiring  crash  of  sacred  music, 
the  peal  of  choral  voices  untaught  and  undirected, 
save  by  the  impulse  of  a  thousand  hearts  attuned 
to  one  high  key  of  patriotic  piety — unmixed  with 
instruments  of  wind  or  string — a  deep,  sonorous 


CROMWELL.  189 

diapason — the  soldier's  anthem  to  the  God  of  bat 
tles  and  the  Lord  of  Hosts  ! 

"  Arise !  arise !"  the  mighty  sound  went  forth, 
its  every  syllable  distinctly  audible  to  the  excited 
listener — 

"  Arise !  arise  !— oh  God — our  God— arise ! 
Ride  on  in  might,  in  terror,  and  renown — 
A  kindling  flame,  their  nobles  to  consume — 
A  two-edged  sword,  to  smite  their  princes  down ! 

"  Thou  that  dost  break  the  arrows  and  the  bow — 
Thou  that  dost  knap  the  ashen  spear  in  sunder — 
Thou,  Lord  of  Hosts,  that  gav'st  the  horse  his  strength, 
And  clothed  the  volumes  of  his  neck  in  thunder — 

"  Be  thou  our  rock — our  fortress  of  defence — 
Our  horn  of  safety,  in  whose  strength  we  trust — 
So  shall  their  hosts  be  chaff  before  the  wind — 
So  shall  their  thousands  grovel  in  the  dust ! 

"  So  shall  our  feet  be  crimson  with  their  blood — 
Their  tongues  our  dogs  shall  purple  with  the  same — 
The  fowls  of  air  shall  have  them  for  a  spoil — 
Their  pride  a  hissing,  and  a  curse  their  name ! 

"  For  not  in  armour,  nor  the  winged  speed 
Of  chargers,  do  we  hope — but  only  see — 
By  whose  great  aid  their  vauntings  to  outspeed — 
Most  Merciful — most  Mighty — only  Thee  !" 

Scarce  had  the  first  sounds;  reached  the  leader's 
ear,  before  he  checked  his  mare  abruptly — "  Wal 
ters,"  he  cried  at  once,  "  away  with  you,  and  over 
take  him  ere  he  gain  the  regiment !  These  be  no 
enemies,  but  friends  !  Let  not  a  troop  descend 
from  the  hill-side — bid  them  await  me,  as  they  be, 
in  order !  Spare  not  your  spurs,  nor  fear  to  spoil 
your  horseflesh — we  have  no  time  to  lose  !  I  well 
had  deemed,"  he  added,  muttering  to  himself,  after 
the  orderly  had  galloped  off  with  his  commands — '• 
'  I  well  had  deemed  their  rear  was  many  a  mile 
advanced  past  this  ere  now.  Pray  Heaven  that 
Essex  lack  not  men  to  hold  the  king  in  check,  as 
he  is  like  to  do,  if  that  this  news  be  sooth  how  he 


190  CROMWELL. 

hath  gathered  head  toward  Keinton  and  Edgehill !" 
and,  without  farther  words,  he  hastened  down  the 
road,  to  be,  as  soon  as  he  had  cleared  the  first  pro 
jection  of  the  broken  banks,  discovered  by  the  re- 
connoitering  parly  in  advance.  A  dozen  carbines 
were  presented  on  the  instant  at  a  short  range — 
"  Stand— ho !" 

"  Friends  !  friends !"  he  shouted,  in  reply,  but 
without  altering  his  pace — "  can  you  not  see  our 
colours?"  waving  his  orange  scarf  abroad,  as  he 
closed  with  the  foremost  trooper. 

"  Stand,  friend,  then  ! — if  that  friend  you  be — 
stand,  friend,  and  give  the  word !"  returned  the 
other,  gruffly — "  stand  !  or  I  do  profess  that  I  will 
shoot — yea  !  shoot  thee  to  the  death  !" 

"  How  now,  thou  peevish  knave,"  replied  the 
officer,  in  high  and  ireful  tones.  "  Recover  in 
stantly  thy  carbine — marshal  me  straight  unto  the 
leader  of  yon  horse  !  Who  is  he  that  commands 
them  ?" 

For  a  moment's  space  the  grim  parliamentarian 
stubbornly  gazed  upon  the  features  of  the  gallant 
who  addressed  him,  as  if  reluctant  to  obey  his 
mandate ;  but  then  a  gleam  of  recognition  flashed 
across  his  sunburnt  features — "  I  crave  your  par 
don,"  he  said,  half  abashed  ;  "  it  is,  an'  I  mistake 
not,  Lieutenant-colonel  Ardenne,  of  the  parlia 
ment's — " 

"  Lead  on,  then,  sirrah !  since  thou  knowest  me," 
interrupted  Edgar,  shortly — "lead  on,  an'  thou 
wouldst  not  repent  it — and  tell  me  who  commands 
yon  horse  brigade  !" 

"Stout  Colonel  Cromwell,"  answ^ed  the  sol 
dier,  more  respectfully — "  stout  and  courageous 
Colonel  Cromwell !  He  will,  I  do  believe,  rejoice 
at  this  encounter.  This  way,  good  sir.  Yonder 
he  sits  on  the  black  horse  beside  the  standard, 


CROMWELL.  191 

awaiting  our.return.     1/o^ou'T  he  sees  us,  and  the 
files  move  onward !" 

And  he  spoke  truly  ;  for,  as  the  cavalry  per 
ceived  the  videttes  moving  orderly  and  slowly 
back,  they  filed  off,  troop  succeeding  troop,  toward 
the  entrance  of  the  lane,  advancing  on  a  gentle  trot 
in  regular  and  beautiful  array.  As  they  passed 
Ardenne,  many  a  scrutinizing  eye  perused  his  fig 
ure  and  equipments,  and  in  most  instances  a  sanc 
tified  and  solemn  sneer  disturbed  the  dark  repose 
of  their  grave  features — called  up,  as  it  would 
seem,  by  the  rich  dress  and  courtly  air  of  the 
young  officer,  which,  in  their  wonted  parlance, 
were  denounced  as  "  fleshly  lusts  that  war  against 
the  soul,"  devices  of  the  Evil  One,  fringes,  phylac 
teries,  and  trappings  of  the  beast.  Nor,  in  mean 
while,  did  Edgar  turn  a  heedless  or  incurious  glance 
toward  those  with  whom,  discarding  friends  and 
kindred,  birthright,  and  rank,  and  chivalrous  asso 
ciation  as  things  of  small  avail  compared  to  the 
great  common  weal,  he  had  now  cast  his  lot  for 
ever.  The  first  emotion  of  his  mind  .was  deep 
anxiety — the  second  wonder — and  the  third  un 
qualified  and  unmixed  admiration.  Never,  he 
thought,  in  Germany  or  France — never,  among  the 
veteran  legions  of  the  Lion  of  the  North,  the  Prot 
estant  Gustavus,  had  he  beheld  superior  discipline, 
or  men  more  soldier-like  and  promising.  Mounted 
on  strong  black  chargers  of  full  sixteen  hands  in 
height,  their  furniture  of  the  most  simple  kind,  but 
well  designed  and  in  the  best  condition — their  iron 
panoply,  corslet,  and  helm,  and  taslets,  stainless 
and  brilliant — and,  above  all,  their  bearing  and 
demeanour — their  seats  upon  their  horses,  firm  yet 
easy — their  muscular  and  well-developed  limbs — 
their  countenances  full  of  resolution,  and  breath 
ing  all — despite  the  difference  of  individual  char- 


192  CROMWELL. 

acter,  and  the  various  operations  of  the  same  affec 
tion  on  minds  of  different  bias — a  strange  expres 
sion  of  religious  sentiment — solemn  in  some,  and 
stern,  or  even  sullen — in  others  wild,  fanatical,  ex 
alted,  and  triumphant — yet  in  all  more  or  less  ap 
parent,  as  evidently  forming  the  great  spring  and 
motive  of  their  action.  Still,  though  attentive  in 
the  first  degree  to  the  essential  rules  of  military 
discipline,  keeping  an  accurate  and  well-dressed 
front,  and  managing  their  heavy  chargers  with  pre 
cision,  there  was  not  any  of  that  deep,  respectful 
silence  among  these  military  saints  which  Edgar 
had  been  used  to  look  for  in  the  strictly-ordered 
service  of  the  Netherlands,  and  to  esteem. *  requi 
site  of  soldiership — but,  on  the  contrary,  as  every 
troop  rode  past  him,  there  was  a  constant  hum  of 
conversation,  suppressed,  indeed,  and  low,  but  still 
distinctly  audible ;  and  he  might  mark  the  knot 
ted  brows  and  clinched  hands  of  the  vehementlpdis- 
puters,  arguing — as  it  would  seem  from  the  dwci- 
ded  gestures,  and  the  texts  which  he  occasionally 
caught  lending  an  elevated  savour  to  their  homely 
language,  and,  more  than  all,  from  the  continual 
appeal  to  the  well-worn  and  greasy  Bibles  which 
each  of  these  stern  controversialists  bore  at  his  gir 
dle — on  questions  of  religious  discipline  or  points 
of  abstruse  doctrine.  Although  this  mixture  of  the 
soldier  and  religionist,  this  undue,  and,  as  it  seemed 
to  him,  irreverent  blending  of  things  good  and  holy 
with  the  dreadful  trade  of  blood,  jarred  painfully  on 
his  correct  and  feeling  mind,  he  could  not  but  ac 
knowledge  that  this  dark  spirit  of  religious  zeal, 
this  confidence  in  their  own  overweening  righteous 
ness,  this  fixed,  unwavering  belief  that  they  were 
the  elected  and  predestined  instruments  of  the  Most 
High — "to  execute,"  as  he  could  hear  them  cry 
aloud,  "  vengeance  upon  the  heathen  and  punish- 


CROMWELL.  193 

ment  upon  the  people ! — to  bind  their  kings  in 
chains  and  their  nobles  in  fetters  of  iron !"  was  in 
deed  a  mighty  and  effective  agent  to  oppose  ihat 
chivalrous,  enthusiastic  bravery,  that  loyal,  self-de 
voting  valour  which  inflamed  the  highborn  army  of 
the  cavaliers  to  deeds  of  noble  daring.     Nor  did  he 
entertain  a  doubt,  when  he  perceived  the  extraor 
dinary  person  who  commanded  them,  occupied  him 
self  in  preaching,  or  expounding  rather,  the  myste 
rious  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament — to  which 
especially  the  puritans  inclined  their  ear — to  an  at 
tentive  knot  of  officers,  grouped,  some  upon  their 
horses,  and  yet  more  dismounted,  around  the  regi 
mental  standard,  but  that  he  had  some  reason  far 
more  cogent  than  mere  feelings  of  devotion  for  thus 
encouraging**  spirit  so  unusual  in  the  breasts  of  his 
stout  followws.     The  colonel — for  to  such  rank 
had  Cromwell  recently  been  elevated,  more  even 
in  consideration  of  the  powerful  and  trusty  regi 
ment  which  he  had  levied  from  the  freeholders  and 
yeomanry  of  Huntingdon  by  his  own  personal  and 
private  influence,  than  of  his  services  performed  al 
ready,  riot  either  few  or  inconsiderable,  keeping  the 
cavaliers  in  check,  surprising  many  of  their  lead 
ers,  anticipating  all  their  meditated  risings,  and  cut 
ting  off  all  convoys,  whether  of  money  or  muni 
tions,  throughout  the  counties  of  the  Eastern  As 
sociation — the  colonel,  as  he  met  the  eye  of  Ar- 
denne,  was  seated  on  his  powerful  black  war-horse, 
bestriding    him,    as   it   would    seem,    with    giant 
strength,  and  perfect  mastery  of  leg  and  hand,  but 
with  an  air  wholly  unmilitary  and  devoid  of  ease  or 
grace  —  sheathed  nearly  cap-a-pie  in  armour   of 
bright  steel,  heavy  and  exquisite^  finished,  but  ut 
terly  without  relief  or  ornament  of  any  kind.     A 
band  or  collar  of  plain  linen,  with  a  broad  hem,  fast 
ened  about  his  short  Herculean  neck,  varied  alone 
VOL.  I.— R 


194  CROMWELL. 

the  stern  simplicity  of  his  attire  ;  no  feather  waved 
above  his  low  and  graceless  casque — no  shoulder- 
knot  or  scarf  bedecked  his  weapon,  which  was  girt 
about  his  middle  by  a  belt  of  buff  three  inches  at 
the  least  in  width,  and  balanced  on  the  right  side 
by  a  formidable  dudgeon  and  the  brass-bound  case 
of  the  familiar  Bible,  which  he  now  held  extended 
in  his  left  hand,  while  with  the  finger  of  his  right 
he  vehemently  smote  the  open  pages  at  each  em 
phatic  pause  of  his  discourse.  His  features  showed 
not  now  so  sanguine  or  so  kindled  as  when  Ar- 
denne  last  beheld  them ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  there 
was  a  mild,  half-veiled  expression  about  the  heavy 
eye ;  and,  though  the  lines  were  strong  and  marked 
as  ever,  there  was  more  of  deliberate  and  quiet 
resolution  than  of  imperiousness  denoted-  by  the 
firmness  of  his  mouth.  It  was  th^^ountenance, 
he  thought,  of  a  cairn  visionary,  pensive  and 
itative  in  his  mood,  and  rather  steadjr  in  the 
tenance  of  his  own  fixed  opinions  than  zealous 
proscribe  or  controvert  the  fancies  or  the  rights  of 
others.  But  he  had  little  time  for  noting  the  ex 
pression,  changed  as  he  fancied  it  to  be,  of  his  su 
perior,  much  less  for  marking  the  diverse  features 
of  the  martial  auditors — for,  as  he  drew  nigh  to 
the  spot  whereon  they  stood,  Cromwell  had  ended 
his  discourse,  and,  with  a  word  or  two  of  military 
precept,  was  dismissing  his  attendants  to  their  sev 
eral  stations.  Several  dashed  past  him  as  he  rode 
up  to  the  little  eminence  on  which  the  colours  were 
erected,  and  but  two  were  waiting  near  the  colonel 
when  he  reached  him — one  a  bull-necked,  coarse- 
featured,  and  ungainly-looking  person,  with  a  gay 
feather  in  his  morion,  a  showy  tassel  on  his  rapier's 
hill,  and  a  falling  collar  of  some  low-priced  lace 
hanging  above  his  gorget — the  other  an  erect  and 
well-made  man,  not  past  the  prime  of  youth,  with 


CROMWELL.  195 

features  singularly  noble  and  expressive,  though  of 
an  almost  Spanish  swarthiness,  and  tinctured  with 
a  deep  and  melancholy  gravity. 

"  Ha  !  Master  Ardenne  !"  exclaimed  Oliver,  his 
eye  joyfully  flashing  as  he  recognised  him — '•  right 
glad  am  I  to  see  you — not  carnally,  nor  with  a 
worldly-minded  and  a  selfish  pleasure,  but  in  that 
there  will  be  work  to  do  anon,  in  which  the  right 
eous  cause  shall  need  all  arms  of  its  supporters  ! 
Have  you  a  power  at  hand  ? — where  be  they  ? — in 
what  force  ? — not  travel-worn,  I  trust  me  !" 

"  Three  hundred  horse,"  Edgar  replied,  "  on  the 
height  yonder — but  for  those  trees  you  might  be 
hold  them  where  we  stand  !  I  left  them  but  just 
now,  Jo  reconnoitre  your  advance,  under  Sir  Ed 
mund  Wint^wp,  my  lieutenant." 

"  Good  !  ^iod  !"  cried  Cromwell,  eagerly  ;  "and 
hdv  far  have  you  marched  to-day — be  your  men 
tMfel-toiled — your  steeds  leg-weary  ? — for  verily 
^jl  have  a  march  before  us." 
,.  "  We  have  but  travelled  six  brief  miles  this  fore 
noon,  and  barely  sixteen  yesterday — my  men  are 
'  in  right  spirits,  and  my  horses  fresh  !  I  could  ac 
complish  twenty  miles  ere  nightfall,  and  that  with 
out  fatigue !" 

"  Surely  the  Lord  is  gracious,"  was  the  answer 
— "  and  of  his  grace,  too,  shall  we  right  soon  make 
trial.  My  Lord  of  Essex  hath,  ere  now,  his  post 
at  Keinton — and  the  man  Charles  of  Stuart  hath 
at  length  mustered  head  to  face  him.  "Fis  marvel 
that  they  be  not  at  it  even  now.  I  fear  me  the 
lord  general  shall  lack  both  horse  and  cannon  ;  but 
we  have  marched  already  a  sore  distance  with  our 
ponderous  guns  and  heavy  armature,  nor  may  I 
now  adventure  to  press  on  more  hastily  without 
dispersing  my  Command.  Ride  with  me  to  your 
regiment,  good  sir;  I  trow  you  were  best  speedily 


196  CROMWELL. 

move  forward.  Keinton  is  barely  twelve  miles 
distant,  and  the  roads,  they  tell  me,  sound  and  pas- 
1  sable  ;"  and,  as  he  spoke,  touching  his  charger 
lightly  with  the  spur,  he  broke  into  a  managed  can 
ter.  "  Cornet,  advance  your  colours,"  he  ex 
claimed,  in  short,  keen  accents,  strangely  at  vari 
ance  with  the  monotonous  and  inexpressive  tones 
of  his  discourse  when  unexcited — "  sound  kettle 
drums,  and  march  !"  and,  riding  briskly  forward, 
easily  passed  the  troops  while  filing  through  the 
lane.  "  Halt  them  here,  Irelon,"  he,  said  t»  the 
dark-favoured  officer  who  had  accompanied  him,  as 
he  turned  into  the  main  road,  having, outstripped 
the  forces  —  "halt  them  in  column  here,  within 
the  lane,  till  I  return — and,  Desborough,  dg  •  thou 
ride  back  to  Hampclen's  regiment  of  foot— it  <ia 
mile  or  so  in  the  rear — and  bid  him^Rng  it  u 
rapidly  as  may  be.  Now,  Master  Ardenne,  Sjat- 
tend  you  !" 

As  they  rode  up  to  Edgar's  quarters,  Crorm 
informed  him  briefly,  and  with  none  of  those  prolix 
and  verbose  sentences  with  which  lie  was  at  times 
accustomed  to  confuse  the  senses  of  his  hearers,^  * 
that  he,  as  senior  officer,  and  therefore  in  com 
mand  of  the  brigade  forming  Lord  Essex's  rear 
guard,  was  marching  up,  at  his  best  pace,  with  his 
own  trusty  cavalry,  and  two — the  stoutest — of  the 
parliament's  foot-regiments,  besides  a  strong  divis 
ion  of  field-guns — that,  by  want  of  intelligence,  the 
general — as  he  had  learned  himself  but  yesterday 
— was  hastening  right  upon  the  king,  and,  he  was 
fearful,  would  fall,  unawares  and  unprepared  for 
battle,  upon  his  very  outposts  !  "  These  tidings  I 
received  of  a  sure  hand,"  he  added,  "  though  whence 
it  needeth  not  to  advertise  you.  Whom  the  Lord 
listeth  to  enlighten,  surely  at  his  own  time  shall  he 
inform  him.  But  so  it  is — and  it  may  be  that  Es- 


CROMWELL.  197 

sex  knoweth  not  his  peril !     Wherefore  I  pray  you 
— ha  !  be  these  your  men  ?     I  do  profess  to  you  I 
hold  them  stout  and  soldierly — not  like  the  drunken 
tapsters  and  vile  turncoat  serving-men  who — fy  on 
it !  that  I  should  say  so — do  compose  the  bulk  of 
our  array  !     Truly  these  fellows  shall  do  credit  to 
the  cause — so  that  the  spirit — the  right  leaven  be 
toward — and  the  Lord  strike  on  our  side  !    Where 
fore  I  pray  you  lead  them,  as  swiftly  as  you  find 
consist  with  order,  upon  Keinton.     If  that  they 
have  not  yet  joined  battle,  say  thus  to  the  lord  gen 
eral,  that  I  beseech  him  hold  off  from  them  so  long 
as  he  may ;  I  shall  be  with  him  by  nine   of  to 
morrow's  clock.     Ha !    heard  you   nothing  ?"   he 
broke  off  abruptly,  as  a  deep,  distant  sound  rolled 
heavily  upon  the  air ;  and,  before  Ardenne  might 
^eply,  the  sullen  rumbling  was  again  repeated,  like 
the  faint  muttering  of  a  rising  thunder-storm,  or 
the  premonitory  growling  of  an  earthquake.     "It 
was  not  thunder  !"  answered  Edgar,  in  the  voice  of 
o»e  asserting  rather  than  questioning;  "there  are 
no  clouds  aloft,  nor  yet  on  the  horizon !" 
'  "  Ordnance  !"  exclaimed  the  other — "  ordnance, 
and  heavier,  too,  than  ours  !     Listen,  now  listen  !" 
And  again  the  heavy  rolling  sound  came  surging 
down  the  wind,  which  freshened  slightly  from  the 
westward — again  it  came  after  a  momentary  pause, 
yet  louder  than  before,  and  more  distinct ;  and  then 
continued  without  interval  the  deep,  unquestionable 
voice  of  a  hot  cannonade. 

"  Away,  sir— God  go  with  you  !"  cried  the  stern 
puritan,  excited  now  beyond  the  bounds  of  self-re 
straint.  "  Tarry  not  on  the  way,  nor  loiter !  Gird 
up  your  loiftl1,  I  say.  Ride  on  !  ride  on,  and  con 
quer  !  Verily,  but  that  it  is  the  Lord's  own  doing, 
verily,  E^gar  Ardenne,  I  would  have  envied  thee 

iV     & 


198  CROMWELL. 

thy  fortune.     Ride  on — thou  shall  be  yet  in  time 
— ride  on — amen  !    Selah !" 

While  he  yet  spoke,  the  officers  and  men,  stirred 
up  already  by  the  near  sound  of  battle,  and  almost 
maddened  with  excitement  by  the  exulting  and  pro 
phetic  cries  of  Cromwell,  were  vying  with  each 
other,  these  to  give  forth,  those  to  obey,  and  almost 
to  anticipate,  the  needful  orders — and,  as  he  uttered 
the  last  words  at  the  full  pitch  of  his  piercing  voice, 
the  trumpets  rang  a  wild  and  thrilling  flourish — the 
squadron,  with  a  single  shout,  unbidden  and  unani 
mous,  that  spoke  the  burning  feelings  of  the  troop 
ers,  swept  on  at  a  hard  trot ;  and,  in  an  instant,  not 
a  sound  was  to  be  heard  save  the  thick-beating 
clatter  of  the  hoofs,  mixed  with  the  clang  of  spur 
and  scabbard,  and  now  and  then  a  boom  of  the 
deep  kettle-drum  timing  the  pace  of  the  advance. 

Onward!    onward   they  hurried  at  the   utmost 
speed  which  prudence  would  admit,  which  nothing 
but  the  admirable  quality  and  high  condition  of 
their  chargers  enabled  them  to  prosecute.     Mile 
after  mile  was  passed,  and  still  the  dull  and  awful 
roar — the  knell  of  many  a  gallant  spirit — waxed 
clearer   and   more   clear.      Having  accomplished 
seven  miles  within  the  hour,  they  halted  for  ten 
minutes  in  a  small  hamlet  to  water  and  to  breathe 
their  horses ;  and  there — when  the  confused  and 
constant  noise  of  their  own  rapid  march  was  silent 
— they  might  distinguish  the  first  sharp  explosion 
of  the  leading  gun  in  every  rolling  volley — and  ever  % 
and  anon,  between  the  deep-mouthed  cannon,  the 
grinding  rattle  of  the  musketry  was  audible,  though 
faintly.     Onward  !  onward  again,  and,  ere  another 
hour  elapsed,  Ardenne  had  marked  \He  clouds  of 
smoke  surging  and  eddying  above  the  distant  hills. 
The  squadron  cleared  the  verge  of  a  low  eminence  ; 
a  gentle  valley  slept  below  them  in  the  still"  misty  ra- 


CROMWELL.  199 


diance  of  a  rich  autumnal  sunset;  a  tranquil  stream 
wound  through  it,  crossed  by  a  lofty  one-arched 
bridge— built,  as  was  evident  from  the  bright  rip 
ples  of  the  ford  beside  it,  merely  for  use  m  times 
of  wintry  flood-and  to  the  left,  at  a  short  mile 
above  the  bridge,  nestled  the  whitewashed  cottages 
of  a  neat  country  village.     TJie  ridge  which  bound, 
ed  this  fair  dale  toward  the  west,  though  cultivated 
at  the  base,  and  checkered  with  dark  woods  and 
golden  stubbles,  lay  bare  toward  the  rounded  sum 
mits  in  unenclosed  and  open  sheep-walks.     Above 
these  summits  the  volumed  smoke  rose  white  as 
fleeces  of  the  purest  wool,  and  scarce  less  solid  to 
the  eye,  reheving  every  object  on  the  brow  as 
plainly  as  though  it  had  stood  out  agains   a  dear 
horizon;  while  all  the  mingled  dm  of  battle  rolled 
up,  a  near  and  fearful  contrast  to  the  sweet  peace 
of  that  secluded  spot.     Just  as  they  gained  a  fair 
view  of  the  valley  and  the  heights  beyond  a  single 
figure  crossed  the  opposite  swell,  dark  and  distinct 
ly  seen  ;  a  horseman  on  a  furious  gallop!     As  I 
descended,  a  slant  sunbeam  glanced  upon  his  i 
headpiece-he  was  a  trooper-flying!      Another 
rushed  across  the  ridge-another,  and  another^ 
confused  and  panic-stricken  group      «  Forward  !- 
secure  the  passage  of  the  stream  !     Forward  !  ho ! 
forward!"    and  at   a  yet  more   rapid  pace ,   they 
plunged   down   the   descent;    they   reached    the 
ctusLay  of  the  bridge-they  lined  the  banks  wuh 
their  arquebusiers,  and  waited  the  arrival  of ^the ^fu 
gitives.     On  came  the  first,  urging  his  jaded  steed, 
but  urging  him  in  vain;  his  sword  was  gone-his 
holsteS  empty-his  buff-coat  soiled  and  splashed 
with  many  a  miry  stain.     His   spurs  alone  were 
bloody!      Long   ere  he   reached  the  bridge   Ar- 
denne's  quick  eye  had  caught  the  orange  scarf  and 
he  rode  forth  alone  to  meet  him.    At  fitst  the  fugi- 


200  CROMWELL. 

live  drew  up  his  horse  as  though  he  would  have 
turned,  but  a  fresh  roar  of  cannon  from  behind  de 
cided  him.  "All's  lost!  all's  lost!"  he  cried — 
"  all's  lost !  Fly  !  fly !  Rupert  is  close  behind  !" 

"  Silence,  for  shame  !"  shouted  the  partisan — 
"coward  and  slave,  be  silent,  or  I  cleave  thee  to 
the  earth !  If  all  be  lost,  why  rages  yon  hot  can 
nonade  ?  How  far  from  this  to  the  field  ?" 

"  A  short  three  miles,"  replied  the  other,  trem 
bling,  and  fearful  no  less  of  new  acquaintance  than 
of  the  foes  he  fled.  Meanwhile  on  came  the  rest 
—all  panic-stricken,  travel-soiled,  and  weaponless ; 
but  not  one  man  was  wounded. 

"  The  cowards  !"  Edgar  muttered,  as  if  care 
lessly,  when  he  rejoined  his  men,  fearful  lest  they 
might  be  disheartened — "  the  vile,  dastard  hounds ! 
that  fled  without  blow  stricken  or  blood  drawn  ! 
But  that  'twere  loss  of  lime,  1  would  draw  out  a 
file  for  execution.  We  will  advance,  and  win  more 
easily,  that  none  are  left  to  cumber  us  with  heart 
less  counsels  !  Fly  on,  ye  dogs,"  he  cried,  more 
loudly,  as  he  wheeled  his  men  once  more  into  their 
column — "  fly  on,  and  pray  the  while  ye  fly  that  ye 
meet  not  with  Cromwell  on  your  route,  else  shall 
ye  but  repent  that  the  cavaliers  made  not  an  end  of 
ye  before  your  race  began  ;  for,  an'  I  know  him, 
he  will  cut  it  right  short  with  a  halter  or  a  volley !" 
And,  with  a  scornful  laugh,  he  cantered  on,  eager 
to  gain  the  vantage  of  the  hill,  and  seeing  at  a 
glance  that  no  more  runaways  poured  over  it.  "It 
cannot  be,"  he  said  to  his  lieutenant — "  it  cannot 
be  the  day  goes  utterly  against  us,  else  how  should 
these  have  fled  three  miles  from  the  encounter,  and 
•still  the  firing  on  both  sides  continue — continue, 
said  I — nay,  but  it  waxes  warmer  !" 

They  reached  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  and  at 
first  sight  Edgar  indeed  believed  thai  a^  was  over- 


CROMWELL.  201 

A  long  broad  valley  lay  outstretched  beneath  him, 
that  might  almost  be  called  a  plain — the  foreground 
scattered  thick  with  groups  of  roundheads,  flying 
— here  singly,  here  in  bodies — to  the  south,  toward 
the  town  of  Keinton,  in  a  line  nearly  parallel  to  the 
range  of  heights  on  which  he  stood ;  while  in  the 
middle  distance  he  might  see  a  torrent  of  dispersed 
pursuing  cavalry,  with  flaunting  plumes  and  flut 
tering  scarfs,  swords  brandished  to  the  sun,  and 
pistol-shots  all  redly  flashing  out  through  the  dense 
smoke,  as  unrelentingly  they  urged,  the  massacre. 
But,  as  he  looked  more  steadfastly  upon  the  scene, 
he  could  distinguish,  at  some  two  or  three  miles' 
distance  toward  the  northern  verge  of  the  unbroken 
valley,  two  dark,  uninterrupted  lines,  whence  rose 
the  smoke  and  burst  the  vivid  flashes  of  artillery 
with  undiminished  vigour — he  could  discern,  be 
tween  the  cloudy  screens,  the  wavering  and  wheel 
ing  masses  that  still  waged  the  balanced  fight,  and 
he  could  hear  the  rattling  volleys  of  the  musketry 
sharp  and  incessant.  "  'Tis  but  our  cavalry,"  he 
said — "  'tis  but  our  cavalry  that  fly,  and  their  horse- 
general  has  lost  a  golden  opportunity;  had  he  but 
wheeled  upon  our  flank  when  the  dog-troopers  fled, 
he  might  have  gained  the  battle  !  But  it  is  now 
too  late,  and,  an'  he  look  not  out  the  sharper,  we 
may  yet  give  him  a  rebuff  he  dreams  not  of.  Sound 
trumpets — ha  !  sound  merrily  a  rally  and  a  charge ! 
Advance,  brave  hearts,  we  will  redeem  the  day. 
For  lo !"  he  added,  with  rare  tact,  as  he  perceived 
the  royal  horse  relaxing  their  pursuit,  and  heard 
their  bugles  winding  a  recall — "  for  lo  !  they  have 
perceived  us,  and  retreat  already !" 

And  down  the  slope  he  moved  in  admirable  order, 
interposing  a  small  wood  between  his  force  and  the 
retiring  cavalry  of  the  victorious  royalists — whom, 
notwithstanding  his  most  politic  vaunt,  he  little 


202  CROMWELL. 

wished  at  that  time  to  encounter.  Just  ere  he  sank 
upon  the  level  ground  he  carefully  reviewed  the 
scene  before  him,  and  was  even  more  convinced 
than  ever  that  the  battle  was  indeed  still  undeter 
mined — and,  farther  yet,  that  the  royalist  horse 
were  at  the  last  aware  of  their  mistake  in  urging 
the  pursuit  too  far ;  for  he  might  see  them  strain 
ing  every  nerve  now  to  repair  their  error,  as  they 
swept  back  toward  the  left-hand  rear  of  the  con 
tending  parties,  leaving  thereby  the  access  to  the 
right  wing  of  Lord  Essex,  whom  Ardenne  justly 
deemed  to  lie  between  himself  and  the  king's  forces, 
easy  and  unobstructed.  Instantly  he  perceived, 
and  profited  as  instantly  by  this  advantage ;  march 
ing  at  a  sharp  ttot  across  {he  field  strewed  with  the 
mangled  carcasses  of  those  who,  by  their  dastard 
flight,  had  lost  the  wretched  lives  they  sacrificed 
their  honour  to  preserve,  and  forfeited  all  claim  to 
that  precarious  boon,  a  soldier's  pity.  Once  on  the 
level  ground,  he  could  discover  nothing  farther,  and 
the  suspense  was  fearful ;  and  now  the  cannonading 
ceased — the  musketry  fell  thicker  and  more  con 
stant — then  that  ceased  likewise,  and  was  followed 
by  the  faintly-heard  hurrah  of  charging  horse,  and 
the  wild  chorus  of  a  psalm.  "  The  day  is  ours," 
he  shouted,  as  he  recognised  the  sounds — "  on ! 
on !  to  share  the  glory  !"  Faster  they  hurried,  and 
but  little  time  elapsed  ere  he  brought  up  his  squad 
ron,  without  the  slightest  opposition,  or  indeed  no 
tice,  on  the  king's  part,  to  the  extreme  right  of  the 
position  occupied  in  the  commencement  of  the  ac 
tion  by  the  army  of  the  parliament.  The  moment 
was  indeed  most  critical,  and  Edgar  could  not  but 
perceive,  as,  having  left  his  squadron  for  the  mo 
ment  in  command  of  his  lieutenant,  he  rode  up  and 
reported  to  the  general,  that  his  arrival  was  deemed 
singularly  opportune.  Never,  perhaps,  had  been  a 


CROMWELL.  203 

field  more  nearly  lost — never  a  victory  more  madly 
cast  away — never  a  battle  poised  more  equally. 
The  base  desertion  of  Sir  Faithful  Fortescue,  the 
terror-stricken  flight  of  Waller's  horse  on  the  left 
wing  before  the  fiery  charge  of  Rupert,  and  the 
defeat  of  the  right  wing  by  Wilmot  and  Sir  Arthur 
Aston,  had  left  both  flanks  of  the  parliamentarians 
utterly  naked  and  unguarded;  so  that  a  single 
charge  by  either  of  the  royalist  commanders  upon 
the  flank  or  rear  which  they  had  turned,  must 
have  annihilated  all  of  their  array  which  yet  stood 
firm — the  foot  under  the  earl  in  person,  and  a  re 
serve  of  horse  under  Sir  William  Balfour.  But 
with  that  desperate  and  selfish  fury  which  neutral 
ized,  in  every  instance,  the  effects  of  his  undaunted 
valour,  Rupert  drove  past  the  left,  as  Wilmot  passed 
the  right,  of  Essex,  trampling  and  cutting  down 
their  unresisting  countrymen  for  several  miles'  dis 
tance  from  the  field,  the  former  suffering  his  men 
to  sack  the  town  of  Keinton,  and  to  disperse  among 
the  baggage  of  the  enemy  ;  while  his  desertion  had 
not  only  robbed  the  king  of  all  his  hopes  of  victory, 
but  actually  placed  him  in  a  more  evil  plight,  and 
peril  far  more  imminent,  than  had  defeat  the  foe. 
For  Balfour,  with  his  squadron  of  reserve,  seeing 
the  plain  entirely  clear  of  horse,  had  charged  the 
royal  foot  with  such  a  steadiness  of  persevering 
courage,  that  he  had  cut  the  Earl  of  Lindsay's 
regiment  to  pieces,  taking  that  nobleman,  with 
his  brave  son  Lord  Willoughby,  both  desperately 
wounded,  prisoners — winning  the  king's  own  stand 
ard — throwing  the  centre  into  perilous  confusion 
— and  hewing  his  way  almost  to  the  person  of  the 
monarch.  Just  at  this  moment,  when  a  bold  ad 
vance  of  his  whole  line  must  have  completed  the 
king's  ruin,  Lord  Essex  was  compelled,  by  Ru 
pert's  reappearance  on  his  left  with  his  fast  rally- 


204  CROMWELl. 

ing  cavalry — who,  though  in  disarray,  and  tired  both 
horse  and  man,  were  flushed  with  their  success  and 
high  in  spirit  —  to  recall  Balfour  to  make  head 
against  him  ;  and  that  bold  leader's  trumpets  were 
calling  off  his  troopers  from  their  half-achieved  suc 
cess  when  Ardenne  reached  the  field,  and  was  direct 
ed  instantly  to  move  his  fresh  men  forward  to  pro 
tect  the  left  wing  of  the  infantry  till  Balfour  should 
draw  off  and  relieve  him.  His  troops,  though  new 
to  service,  were  admirably  disciplined  and  full  of 
daring  confidence  in  their  tried  leader;  and  with 
such  promptitude  and  regularity  did  they  manoeu 
vre  and  deploy  in  face  of  a  superior  body,  that  he 
almost  regretted  that  there  was  no  better  opportu 
nity  to  prove  their  mettle  and  to  flesh  their  maiden 
swords.  His  duty  quietly  performed,  and  the  re 
serve  of  Balfour  being  reformed  in  haste  and  front 
ing  Rupert,  he  was  commanded  once  again  to  oc 
cupy  his  first  position  on  the  right ;  and  now  in 
stinctively  he  saw  that  either  army  might  be 
deemed  half  conquered — that  a  single  charge — 
nay,  but  a  single  demonstration — would  suffice  to 
win  an  absolute  and  undisputed  victory.  Each 
host  was  spiritless  and  disarrayed — the  leaders  on 
each  side  confused  and  doubtful — the  troops  ex 
hausted,  slack,  and  heartless.  Vainly  he  prayed 
the  general-in-chief  to  suffer  him  to  risk  his  single 
regiment  in  but  one  charge  on  Rupert's  half-col 
lected  squadrons ;  pointing  out  to  him  clearly,  but 
without  effect,  the  strong  presumption  that  his  fresh 
men  and  vigorous  horses  must  sweep  away,  like 
dust,  the  cavaliers,  worn  out  with  the  lassitude  for 
ever  consequent  on  over-fierce  excitement,  and 
troubled  farther  at  finding  themselves  assailed  from 
having  of  late  been  assailants — and  the  certainty 
that,  if  such  should  be  the  case,  undoubted  con 
quest  must  ensue.  The  earl  was  cold  and  dubi- 


CROMWELL.  205 

ous.  "  We  may  not  hope,"  he  said — "  we  may  not 
hope  for  victory  to-night.  It  is  a  mercy  from  on 
high — I  had  right  nearly  said  a  miracle — that  we 
stand  here  as  now,  at  vantage,  holding  the  better 
of  a  doubtful  day !  An  hour  ago  methought  that 
all  was  lost.  Moreover,  it  has  gone  tenfold  more 
fatally  with  them  than  us.  We  have  lost  privates 
— men  neither  high  of  heart  nor  strong  of  hand, 
much  less  of  eminence  or  wisdom — they  the  first 
flowers  of  England.  Oh !  I  could  wellnigh  weep, 
but  that  'twere  treason  to  our  cause,  for  the  pure 
blood  that  has  been  shed  like  water — Lindsay,  and 
Aubigney,  and  Stewart,  and  Edmund  Verney,  the 
bravest  and  the  best  of  the  array,  all  lost — all  lost 
in  this  accursed  quarrel !  Two  more  such  fields 
as  this  were  fatal  to  the  king,  while  ten  such  would 
but  leave  us,  at  the  worst,  where  now  we  are !" 
Slowly  and  unconvinced  Edgar  rode  back  to  his 
command  ;  and  as  he  watched  the  movements  of 
the  enemy,  now  holding  the  precise  position  they 
had  occupied  three  hours  before,  whatever  doubt  he 
might-have  entertained  till  then  vanished  at  once — 
for  he  beheld  the  hapless  Charles — armed  as  be 
comes  a  king  to  battle  for  his  crown,  all  steel  from 
spur  to  helmet,  a  mantle  of  black  velvet,  with  the 
star  and  George  of  diamonds,  floating  above  his  ar 
mour — reining  his  snow-white  charger  gallantly 
among  his  wavering  lines,  beseeching  them  "  once 
more,"  with  energetic  gestures — "  once  more  to 
charge  the  rebels !" — and  he  beheld  the  faint  and 
false-hearted  denial;  for  not  by  any  prayer  or 
promise  could  those  to  whom  he  spoke  with  words 
of  fire  be  wrought  upon  a  second  time  to  dare  the 
onset. 

Meanwhile  the  sun  set  gloomily  in  a  dense  bank 
of  clouds — the  night,  "  that  common  friend  to  wea 
ried  and  dismantled  armies,"  sank  darkly  down 

VOL.  I  — S 


206  CROMWELL. 

upon  the  plain  so  thickly  set  with  sights  and  sounds 
of  agony  and  horror  that  it  was  but  one  mighty 
charnel-house ;  and  the  two  hosts,  each  on  the 
ground  whereon  they  fought,  slept  anxious  and  un 
easy  on  their  arms — uncertain  of  their  present 
safety,  and  unresolved  of  their  proceedings  for  the 
morrow. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  Behold  !  our  swords  are  drawn  ! 
Not  for  the  bubble  fame— nor  at  thy  call, 
Vaulting  ambition,  that  would  stride  the  neck 
Of  prostrate  kings,  to  mount,  with  foot  profane, 
Thrones  of  usurped  dominion— but  for  right ! 
For  freedom — lor  our  country — for  our  God  ! 
And  think  ye  they  shall  e'er  go  up  again, 
Till  that  this  solemn  cause  adjudged  shall  be, 
In  high  Heaven's  sight,  by  death  or  victory  ?" 

THE  morning  was  yet  gray  and  gloomy  after  a 
night  of  frost — felt  the  more  bitterly  by  those  who 
bivouacked  upon  the  field,  since  there  WHS  neither 
tree,  nor  hedge,  nor  any  other  covert  nigh  to  fence 
them  from  the  piercing  wind — when  Ardenne  start 
ed  from  the  disturbed  and  unrefreshing  slumbers 
which  had  crept  upon  him,  beneath  the  partial  shel 
ter  of  an  ammunition  tumbrel  overturned  and  bro 
ken,  uproused  by  the  loud  trumpets  of  the  power 
ful  re-enforcement  brought  up  before  the  promised 
hour  by  Cromwell,  consisting  of  two  thousand  foot, 
Hampden's  and  Grantham's  regiments,  and  his  own 
ironsides,  whose  presence  might,  on  the  preceding 
day,  have  lurned  the  doubtful  scale,  and  ended,  at 
a  single  stroke,  the  war  unfortunately  destined  to 
no  such  speedy  termination.  It  was  a  strange  and 


CROMWELL.  207 

melancholy,  though  exciting  scene,  that  met  his 
gaze  as  he  arose ;  the  dark  skies  scarcely  dappled 
in  the  east  by  the  first  paly  streaks  of  dawn — the 
faint  stars  waning  one  by  one  as  the  cold  light  in 
creased — the  black  brows  of  the  neighbouring  hills 
cutting  distinct  and  sharp  against  the  wan  horizon 
— the  white  and  ghostly  mist  creeping  in  wreaths 
along  their  bases,  and  curtaining  the  plain  with  a 
dense  veil,  through  which  the  watchfires  of  the 
royal  host,  at  scantly  a  mile's  distance,  burnt  with 
a  dull  and  lurid  redness,  like  to  the  glimmering  of 
a  witch's  caldron — the  foreground  heaped  with  the 
carriages  of  the  artillery,  horses  picquetted  in  their 
ranks,  and  companies  of  men  outstretched  on  the 
dank  soil,  sleeping  upon  no  better  couches  than 
their  dripping  cloaks,  beneath  no  warmer  canopy 
than  the  o'ercast  and  gusty  firmament.  Nor  were 
the  sounds  that  rose  at  intervals  fmm  the  opposing 
camps,  and  the  deserted  battle  field  between  them, 
less  wild  and  mournful  than  the  images  which 
crowded  their  nocturnal  area — ihe  measured  tramp 
of  the  unwearied  sentinel,  now  mingled  with  the 
clash  of  armour,  and  close  beside  the  ear,  now  grad 
ually  sinking  into  silence  as  he  visited  his  farther 
beat — the  clang  and  clatter  of  the  horse  patrol, 
sweeping  at  wider  distances  around  the  guarded 
limits,  and  the  deep,  melancholy  cadence  of  his  oc 
casional  "  All's  well" — the  neigh  and  stamp  of  rest 
less  chargers — the  howling  of  forsaken  dogs — and, 
sadder  and  more  terrible  than  all  beside,  the  feeble 
wailing,  the  half-heard,  distant  groan,  or  the  long- 
drawn,  but  unavailing  cry  for  succour,  of  maimed 
and  miserable  wretches,  battling  and  wrestling  with 
their  mortal  pangs  throughout  the  livelong  night, 
and  cursing  the  unnatural  strength  that  nerved  their 
fainting  and  reluctant  flesh  to  strive  with  that  inev 
itable  angel,  whom  their  more  willing  spirit  would 


208  CROMWELL. 

have  welcomed  as  a  rescuer  and  friend.  While  he 
was  yet,  with  a  sick  heart  and  tortured  ear,  listen 
ing  to  these  too  numerous  witnesses  of  human  ag 
ony,  and  pondering  upon  the  dread  responsibility 
of  "him  who,  to  indulge  a  lawless  thirst  after  a  little 
brief  authority,  had  let  loose  on  a  happy  land  that 
most  abhorred  curse  of  nations,  domestic  war,  an 
orderly  rode  up  in  haste  to  crave  his  presence  at 
the  quarters  of  the  general.  After  a  short  and 
rapid  walk  toward  the  rear,  he  reached  the  spot 
where  Essex,  like  the  meanest  of  his  men,  had 
passed  the  night,  beneath  no  other  roof  than  the  in 
clement  sky.  A  dozen  pikes,  irregularly  pitched 
into  the  ground,  and  draped  with  horse-blankets 
and  watch-cloaks,  offered  a  shelter  rather  nominal 
than  real  against  the  night  air  on  the  north  and  east, 
while  a  huge  pile  of  logs  sparkled  and  blazed  in 
front,  casting  a  wavering  glare  of  crimson  upon  a 
group  of  tall  and  martial-looking  officers,  collected 
round  the  person  of  their  leader,  and  glittering 
more  obscurely  on  the  arms  and  figures  of  a  score 
or  two  of  troopers,  who  sat  motionless  on  their  tall 
chargers  at  some  short  distance  in  the  rear.  The 
council,  as  it  seemed  to  Edgar  on  his  first  approach, 
were  absolutely  silent ;  but,  as  he  drew  more  near, 
he  found  that  Essex  was  addressing  them,  al 
though  in  tones  so  low  and  so  subdued  that  they 
scarce  reached  the  ears  of  those  for  whom  they 
were  intended.  Nor,  as  he  judged  from  the  ex 
pression  painted  on  every  countenance — for  the  lord 
general  ceased  from  speaking  just  as  he  joined  the 
circle — were  his  words  calculated  to  inspire  his  lis 
teners  with  confidence  or  warlike  spirit.  A  blank, 
desponding  gloom  sat  darkling  on  the  brows  of  all, 
and  every  eye  save  those  of  the  new-comers,  who 
stood  together  and  apart  a  little  from  the  rest, 
dwelt  gloomily  upon  the  ground.  It  seemed  a 


CROMWELL.  209 

meeting  rather  of  defeated  and  despairing  fugitives, 
than  of  the  bold  and  dauntless  spirits  who  had  but 
yestereven  maintained    a  more  than   equal  strife 
against  the  flower  of  England's  nobles — till,  sud 
denly,  with  his  harsh  features   kindling  into  pas 
sionate  and  fiery  animation,  and  his  eye  glancing 
wildfire,  Cromwell,  whom  Edgar  had  not  hitherto 
observed,  upstarted  from  a  pile  of  housings  and 
horse-furniture  on  which  he  had  been  seated — "  As 
the  Lord  liveth,"  he  exclaimed — "  as  the  Lord  liv- 
eth,  we  can  smite  them  hip  and  thigh,  if  so  be  that 
your   excellency  will   give   me   but   command  to 
charge  upon  them  now,  while  they  yet  lie,  with 
faint   hearts   and   with   heavy    eyes,    about    their 
.watch-fires.     I  ask  but  for  my  own  stout  troop  of 
ironsides  and  Master  Ardenne's  horse  here,  if  he 
list  to  join  me — I  ask  but  these,  and,  verily,  I  do 
profess  to  you,  they  shall  not  bide  the  changing  of 
a  buffet ;  nay,  but  we  may  destroy  them  utterly, 
smiting  them   with  the  sword,  as  Joshua  smote 
them  beside  the  waters,  even  the  waters  of  Merorn, 
what  time  he  did  to  them  as  the  Lord  bade  him ; 
he  houghed  their  horses  and  burnt  their  chariots 
with  fire  !" 

"  It  is  too  late,  sir!"  returned  Essex,  coldly — 
"it  is  too  late  !  The  morning  will  have  broken  ere 
you  can  get  your  men  to  horse  !" 

"  Nay,  but  not  so,  lord  general,"  anxiously  in 
terrupted  Cromwell ;  "  my  troopers  be  not  yet  dis-. 
mounted ;  and,  of  a  truth,  I  do  assure  you  that  their 
spirits  are  athirst,  ay,  and  their  souls  an  hungered, 
to  do  this  battle  for  the  Lord  !" 

"  We  will  not  have  it  so,  sir,"  replied  the  earl, 
shortly,  and  scarcely  courteously — "  we  will  not 
have  it  so.  It  might  endanger  our  whole  host.  I 
pray  you,  Colonel  Cromwell,  draw  out  your  horse 
upon  our  farthest  left,  facing  thereby  Prince  Ru« 
S  B ' 


210  CROMWELL. 

pert  on  the  king's  right  wing.  And  you,  fair  gen 
tlemen" — turning  to  Hampden  and  to  Grantham — 
"  move  up  your  gallant  foot  to  re-enforce  our  cen 
tre.  Had  ye  been  here  but  yesterday,  I  had  not 
feared  to  gain  a  complete  victory ;  but  now  I  hold 
it  rash  to  offer  or  commence,  though,  by  God's 
help,  we  will  not  shun  encounter.  Sirs,  to  your 
posts.  The  council  is  at  end.  The  day  is  break 
ing — lo,  there  sounds  the  reveillee  !" 

"  Cold  council !"  muttered  Cromwell  in  the  ear 
of  Ardenne,  as  he  left  the  presence ;  "  cold  coun 
cil,  if  not  traitorous  !  and,  at  the  best,  false  argu 
ment  ! — for  an  he  could  half  beat  Charles  Stuart 
without  us  yesterday,  sure,  with  three  thousands 
of  fresh  men,  and  those  the  best  of  his  array,  he 
might  now  trample  him  beneath  his  feet !  Besides, 
with  Verney  slain  outright,  and  Lindsey  captive, 
and  half  their  officers  cut  down  or  grievously  en 
treated,  stands  it  not  certain  that  they  must  need 
be  faint  of  heart  ?  Verily  !  verily  !  I  say  to  you, 
there  shall  be  no  good  thing  befall  the  righteous 
cause  while  such  a  leader  marshalls  us." 

As  he  concluded  he  turned  off  abruptly,  mount 
ed  his  horse,  and  rode  away  toward  his  troopers, 
who  awaited  their  stout  colonel  in  the  rear ;  and, 
ere  ten  minutes  had  elapsed,  Edgar  might  hear 
them  chanting,  in  subdued  and  sullen  tones,  the 
melancholy  psalm,  "  Save  me,  0  God,  for  the 
waters  are  come  in  unto  my  soul,"  as  they  march 
ed  gloomily  away  to  occupy  the  post  to  which 
they  were  assigned.  At  the  same  time  the  regi 
ments,  which,  for  the  last  half  hour,  had  been  get 
ting  under  arms,  fell  in,  and  faced  the  army  of  the 
king,  now  clearly  to  be  seen,  as  the  mists  grad 
ually  rolled  away  before  the  growing  daylight,  re 
suming  the  position  it  had  held  before  the  action 
of  the  previous  day.  The  instruments  of  music 


CROMWELL.  211 

sounded,  indeed,  and  Cheerily,  and  the  bright  col 
ours  fluttered  gayly  in  the  freshening  breeze  ;  but 
other  sign  of  spirit  or  alacrity  along  the  serried 
ranks  Edgar  saw  none  before  he  reached  his  own 
brave  troopers,  already  mounted  and  in  accurate 
array,  under  Sir  Edmund  Winthrop,  his  lieutenant, 
and  eager — as  the  heart-stirring  shout  with  which 
they  greeted  their  commander  spoke  them — for 
the  onset,  of  which  they  deemed  his  presence  the 
immediate  harbinger. 

The  sun  rose  broad  and  bright,  kindling  the 
whole  expanse  of  heaven  with  his  fair  lustre  ;  the 
mist-wreaths  floated  upward,  and  dispersed  them 
selves  into  the  delicate  and  scale-like  clouds,  fleck 
ing  the  azure  skies,  which  promise  glorious  days ; 
the  morning  gradually  passed  away,  and  noon  drew 
nigh,  and  still  each  army  held  its  ground,  facing 
the  other  in  the  stern  array  of  warfare,  both,  as  it 
seemed,  prepared  and  resolute  to  meet,  but  neither 
willing  to  commence,  the  onset.  At  times,  the 
trumpets  on  one  side  would  breathe  forth  a  wild 
flourish  of  defiance,  and  a  shout  or  psalm  would  go 
up  to  the  peaceful  heaven  from  the  other,  intended, 
it  might  be,  to  challenge  or  to  irritate  the  foe  into 
some  movement  that  should  lay  him  open  to  attack ; 
but  the  sun  now  rode  high  in  heaven,  and  hour  by 
hour  the  chances  of  a  general  action  became  less 
imminent.  Suddenly — at  a  moment  when  all  those 
leaders  of  the  parliament,  who  deemed  it  no  less 
for  their  interest  than  honour  to  give  battle,  almost 
despaired  of  any  opportunity  for  sealing  their  ad 
herence  to  the  cause — there  was  a  movement  on 
the  right  wing  of  the  royal  host.  Directly  in  the 
centre  of  the  field,  midway  between  the  lines  of 
either  army,  four  light  field-pieces,  sakers  and  cul- 
verins,  had  been  abandoned,  on  the  previous  day, 
by  the  king's  infantry,  when  shattered  and  disor- 


212  CROMWELL. 

dered,  though  still  fighting  with  their  faces  to  the 
foe,  by  the  repeated  charge  of  Balfour's  horse.  So 
rapidly  had  night  set  in  upon  the  wearied  hosts, 
and  perhaps  so  fearful  were  both  parties  of  then 
doing  aught  which  might  provoke  renewal  of  the 
conflict,  that  these,  the  proof  and  prizes  of  the  vic 
tory,  had  been  permitted  to  remain  unmoved,  either 
by  rescuer  or  captor,  through  the  long  hours  of 
darkness ;  and,  until  midday  was  at  hand,  no  dis 
position  was  exhibited  to  bring  them  off,  whether 
by  cavalier  or  puritan.  But  now — either  disposed 
to  fight,  if  needful,  with  courage  gathered  from  the 
weak  policy  of  Essex,  or  convinced  by  their  inac 
tivity  that  he  should  meet  with  no  resistance  from 
the  despised  and  hated  roundheads — Rupert  dashed 
forth  in  person  from  the  right,  with  a  detachment 
of  the  king's  horseguard,  that  gallant  troop  of 
nobles  whose  impetuous  and  headlong  daring, 
though  at  the  first  it  had  passed,  like  a  torrent, 
sheer  through  the  reeling  ranks  and  weaker  cav 
alry  of  its  opponents,  had  yet  done  more  against 
the  final  gaining  of  the  day  than  had  the  fiercest 
struggles  of  the  adversary.  Forward  they  came, 
mounted  on  horses  that  might  each  have  borne  a 
king  to  battle,  rending  the  air  with  their  repeated 
cheers,  and  with  the  joyous  clangour  of  their  defy 
ing  trumpets,  a  flood  of "waving  plumes  and  flutter 
ing  scarfs — the  bravest  and  the  best-born  of  the 
land.  Midway  between  the  hosts  they  galloped 
on,  exposing,  as  it  would  seem,  in  very  wantonness 
of  bold  bravade,  the  flank  of  their  advance  to  the 
stern  ironsides  of  Cromwell,  who  showed  like  a 
dark  storm-cloud  ready  to  burst  upon  their  heads 
with  all  the  crash  and  ruin  of  a  tempest.  Already 
were  those  gloomy  mnrtialisls  exchanging  their 
dull  scowls  of  rigid  and  abstracted  sanctity  for  the 
fierce  flashings  of  enthusiastic  joy,  with  which  they 


CROMWELL.  213 

never  failed  to  clothe  their  features  when  rushing 
down  like  eagles  to  the  banquet  of  the  sword ! 
Already  were  they  brandishing  their  heavy  blades 
aloft  in  savage  exultation.  Already  were  they  lift 
ing  up  their  voices  in  the  triumphant  psalm  which 
should  preface  their  thundering  charge,  and,  rising 
high  above  the  din  of  battle,  strike  terror  and  con- 
fusio.n  to  the  hearts  of  those  whom,  as  they  sung, 
"  The  Lord — even  the  Lord  of  Hosts — shall  hunt, 
to  overthrow  them  !"  But,  ere  the  word  was  given 
by  their  colonel,  whose  sword  was  in  his  hand 
outstretched  toward  the  flaunting  cavaliers,  on 
whose  destruction  he  securely  counted,  an  officer 
came,  at  the  full  speed  of  his  spur-galled  and  foam 
ing  charger,  bearing  the  mandates  of  the  general. 

"  Ha !  Major  Winton,"  Cromwell  exclaimed, 
with  a  raised  voice  and  joyous  intonation,  "  you 
bring  us  right  glad  tidings — tidings  which  my  soul 
comprehendeth  ere  mine  ear  hath  caught  their  im 
port.  Tarry  thou  but  a  little  space,  and  call  me 
coward  then,  an  thou  see  them  not  performed  unto 
the  letter — ay !  and  those  gay  malignants  yonder 
scattered  like  chaff  before  the  wind  of  heaven ! 
Sound  trumpets,  and — " 

"  Hold  !  Colonel  Cromwell ;  in  the  Lord's  name, 
hold  !"  the  other  interrupted  him,  with  a  half  fright 
ened  energy  of  zeal ;  "  you  do  misapprehend ! 
'Tis  the  lord  general's  command  that  you  stir  not 
a  foot !  He  would  avoid  an  action." 

"  Tush,  man,  it  cannot  be  !"  Oliver  fiercely  cried ; 
"  nay,  stay  me  not ! — forego  thy  grasp  upon  my 
rein !  Let  me  not  now,  I  say,  or  truly  I  will — " 

"Nay,  sir,"  returned  the  officer,  cutting  again 
into  his  speech,  as  much  chagrined  by  the  impet 
uous  gesture  and  half  uttered  threat,  "  you  shall  do 
as  you  list  for  me  ;  but  I  do  warn  you,  'tis  against 
express  commandment  of  my  Lord  of  Essex  if  you 


214  CROMWELL. 

shall  charge  these  horse.  See  how  they  muster 
yonder  to  the  front  of  the  main  host,  dragoons  and 
cavalry,  for  the  support  of  this  detachment.  One 
charge  must  need  bring  on  a  general  action." 

"  The  better !"  answered  Cromwell,  with  a 
gloomy  frown;  "the  better — an  we  had  aught  of 
faith  in  the  good  cause,  or  spirit  in  our  carnal  cal 
ling.  But  on  his  own  head  be  it !  Surely  the 
Lord  hath  deadened  his  understanding,  causing  his 
heart  to  fail  with  terror  and  with  fainting!  On  his 
own  head  be  it !"  and,  as  he  spoke,  he  sheathed  his 
rapier,  driving  it  home  so  furiously  that  the  hilt 
rang  against  the  iron  scabbard  with  a  sharp,  angry 
clatter  ;  "  on  his  own  head  be  the  shame,  the  ruin, 
and  confusion  !"  and,  turning  his  charger's  rein,  he 
rode  away  toward  the  rear,  in  a  dark,  sullm  rev- 
ery,  determined  not  to  look  upon  lite  capture  of 
the  guns  since  he  could  not  prevent  it.  Nor  did 
he  check  in  anywise,  or  reprimand  the  deep  and 
bitter  murmurs  of  reviling  which  the  fierce  zealots 
he  commanded  launched  against  the  cold  and  cau 
tious  policy  that  thus  forbid  them  "  to  arise,  and 
slay  the  enemy  at  Karkar,  even  as  Gideon  arose 
when  he  slew  Zebah  and  Zalmunnah  !" 

And,  in  the  sight  of  the  whole  hoet,  the  chivalry 
of  Rupert  dashed  along,  with  brandished  weapons 
and  bright  banners,  unharmed  at  least,  if  not  un 
heeded.  They  pounced  upon  the  cannon,  and  not 
a  sword  was  drawn  or  a  shot  fired.  Six  powerful 
horses,  led  for  the  purpose,  and  already  harnessed, 
were,  on  the  instant,  linked  to  every  gun ;  and 
away  they  went,  bounding  and  clattering  over  the 
frozen  soil  at  a  hard  gallop,  while  the  fearless  cav 
aliers  formed  front  toward  the  host  of  Essex  to 
cover  their  retreat,  patiently  waiting  till  they  reach 
ed  the  royal  lines.  Then,  with  three  regular  cheers 
of  triumph  and  derision,  they  filed  off  at  a  foot's 


CROMWELL.  215 

pace,  as  if  unwilling  to  return  without  exchanging 
shot  of  carbine  or  stroke  of  sword,  even  although 
victorious.  Another  hour  elapsed,  and  yet  another, 
and  still  the  armies  held  their  stations  steadily,  face 
to  face,  neither  advancing  to  attack,  neither  dis 
posed  to  quit  the  field  in  presence  of  the  other. 
Noon  was  already  past,  when  a  fresh  movement 
was  observed  among  the  royalists  near  to  the 
centre  of  the  army.  But  this  time,  as  it  seemed, 
no  hostile  measures  were  intended  ;  for  a  white 
flag  was  suddenly  advanced  beyond  the  outposts  of 
the  army,  and  then,  preceded  by  his  trumpet,  and 
followed  by  a  glittering  train  of  pursuivants,  attired 
in  their  quartered  tabards,  Clarencieux,  king-al 
arms,  refulgent  in  the  blazoned  pomp  of  heraldry, 
caracoled  forth  upon  a  snow-white  palfrey,  whose 
embroidered  housings  literally  swept  the  ground. 
When  it  had  almost  reached  the  advanced  guards 
of  the  parliament,  the  gay  procession  halted,  while 
its  trumpets  stirred  the  echoes  of  the  slumbering 
hills  with  a  long-flourished  blast,  calling  the  leaders 
of  the  host  to  a  pacific  parle.  But,  be  their  errand 
what  it  might,  their  summons  called  forth  no  emo 
tion  from  the  stern  puritans.  No  officer  rode  down 
to  meet  them — no  peaceful  symbol  corresponding 
to  their  own  was  raised  to  greet  them — no  trumpet 
answered  theirs,  though  thrice  it  brayed  aloud,  with 
notes  of  evident  impatience.  Wearied,  at  length, 
by  the  contemptuous  silence  which  alone  answer 
ed  to  his  overtures,  leaving  his  train  where  it  had 
halted,  ibr  king-at-armsrode  slowly,  with  a  dubious 
air,  as  if  but  ill  assured  of  safety,  toward  the  near 
est  guard  of  horsemen,  one  pursuivant  alone  attend 
ing,  and  demanded  to  be  led  forthwith  to  the  lord 
general ;  after  brief  ceremonial,  the  subaltern,  de 
taching  half  a  dozen  men,  escorted  him  along  the 
line,  requiring  him  emphatically,  and  with  a  glance 


216  CROMWELL. 

toward  the  carbines  of  the  guard,  which  rested 
upon  their  thighs,  in  readiness  for  instant  service,  to 
speak  no  word  an  he  would  reach  the  general  in 
life.  Nor  was  his  greeting  much  more  cordial 
when,  after  hurrying  him,  with  small  respect,  along 
the  serried  ranks,  the  subaltern  resigned  him  to  an 
officer  of  Essex's  lifeguard,  who,  with  the  same 
stern  discipline,  conducted  him  toward  the  quar 
ters  of  the  brave  though  over-cautious  nobleman 
who  held  the  chief  command.  The  general  was 
mounted  on  his  charger,  with  his  leading-staff  in 
hand,  attired  in  a  suit  of  beautiful  half  armour,  with 
a  broad  scarf  of  orange  crossing  his  cuirass,  and  a 
feather  of  the  like  colour  drooping  from  his  morion. 
The  Earl  of  Bedford  and  Sir  William  Balfour  were 
beside  him,  likewise  on  horseback ;  and  some  half 
dozen  of  his  staff,  with  Colonels  Hazlerig  and 
Hampden,  stood  around,  dismounted.  Essex,  with 
whom  he  had  no  personal  acquaintance,  looked  full 
upon  him  without  a  word  or  sign  of  salutation ;  but 
Balfour,  whom  he  knew,  bowed  slightly. 

"  I  bear,  so  please  you,  my  good  Lord  of  Essex," 
the  king-at-arms  began,  in  nowise  daunted  by  his 
cold  reception,  "  I  bear  a  gracious  proclamation  of 
his  majesty,  Charles,  by  the  grace  of  God — " 

"  Hold,  sir,"  cried  Essex,  in  a  sharp  and  angry 
tone,  "  hold,  sir — to  whom  bear  you  this  message  ? 
Speak  out,  sir — and  fall  back,  you  loitering  knaves ! 
back  with  you  all !  back  out  of  earshot !"  as  he 
perceived  the  troopers  of  his  body-guard  crowding 
a  little  forward,  as  if  to  mark  what  passed. 

"  Charles,  by  the  grace  of  God — "  continued  the 
bold  speaker,  resuming,  even  where  he  had  been 
before  cut  short,  the  thread  of  his  discourse. 

"  To  whom — to  whom,  I  say,  bear  you  this 
message  ?"  exclaimed  Essex,  in  tones  of  fierce  ex 
citement,  the  blood  rushing  in  crimson  to  his  brow. 
"  To  whom,  save  me,  olare  you  bear  any  word  ?" 


CROMWELL. 


wTo  all,"  he   answered,  calmly— "to  all  men 
present  here  bear  I  his  majesty's  most  merciful—" 

"Silence,  audacious!'1   thundered  the  general; 
"silence,  if  thou  beest  not  aweary  of  thy  life-! 
Knowest  thou  not,  William  le  Neve,  knowest  thou 
not  that  for  this  breach  of  every  law  of  war  and 
nations  I  might  cause  thee  hang  ?— hang  like   a 
doff  upon  the  nearest  tree,  for  all  thy  painted  mum 
mery!     Away  with  him,  sir,"  he  continued,  after 
a  short  pause,  as  if  ashamed  of  his  display  of  vio 
lence,  addressing  the  officer  who  had  escorted  him, 
"away  with  him!— see  him  a  hundred  yards  be 
yond  our  outposts ;   and  if  he  do  but  breathe  too 
loudly,  shoot  him  upon  the  instant.    I  do  profess 
he  added,  turning  again  to  the  abashed  and  silent 
messenger,  "  I  do  profess  to  you,  you  have  incur 
red  a  v?ry  fearful  risk ;  but,  that  you  may  not  lack 
an  answer,  say  to  your  master  that  we  have  drawn 
our  swords  at  bidding  of  the  parliament,  and  in  be 
half  of  those  ancestral  liberties,  which  we  will  ei 
ther  transmit  free  and  unfettered  to  our  children, 
or  lose  together  with  our  lives  '.—thou  hast  thine 


answer.  .        ,        ,      i     i 

And  with  even  more  precaution  than  he  had 
been  admitted  was  he  led  back  to  join  his  follow 
ers  by  a  stout  squadron  of  the  generals  lifeguard, 
who/halting  at  some  twenty  yards  from  the  con 
fused  and  trembling  pursuivants,  deliberately  blew 
their  matches  and  levelled  their  short  arquebuses  ! 
Startled  at  this  manoeuvre,  it  needed  little,  when 
the  officer  informed  them,  "That,  an  they  were 
not  a  full  flight-shot  on  their  route  before  three 
minutes,  he  should  fire  a  volley  on  them,  to  send 
them  at  a  furious  gallop  scattering  towards  the 

""ThifwTs  the  last  attempt;  and,  ere  an  hour 
had  elapsed,  the  guns  and  carriages  of  the  kings 


Vox.  t—  T 


218  CROMWELL. 

host  were  drawn  off  by  the  road  to  Edgecot,  his 
late  quarters  ;  and  Essex,  on  beholding  their  re 
treat,  was  no  less  willing  to  lead  away  toward 
Warwick  his  wearied  and  disheartened  army, 
abandoning  thereby  to  Charles  the  access  to  the 
capital — which  he  had  marched,  and  even  risked  a 
battle,  to  defend — whenever  he  should  choose  to 
profit  by  the  errors  of  his  enemy.  Scarce  had  the 
orders  for  this  movement  been  delivered  before  a 
trooper  galloped  up  to  Ardenne's  post,  gave  him  a 
packet,  and,  without  waiting  a  reply,  dashed  spurs 
into  his  horse,  and  was  already  out  of  sight  ere 
Edgar  had  discerned  its  purport.  It  was  a  man 
date  from  the  general  in  council,  directing  him  to 
join  his  force  to  that  of  Colonel  Cromwell,  and 
place  himself  at  once  at  his  disposal ;  and  he  had 
hardly  read  it  through  when  Oliver  himself  rode 
up.  "  You  have  received,"  he  said — "  you  have 
received  already,  as  I  see,  those  tidings  which, 
trusting  that  they  may  not  be  displeasing,  and  that 
so  you  be  not  rendered  an  unwilling  instrument  in 
this  great  cause,  I  have  come  hither  to  communi 
cate.  I  am  detached  forthwith  to  march  with  mine 
own  ironsides  and  with  your  gallant  horse  for 
Cambridge — thence  to  protect  the  safety  of  the 
eastern  counties — and  verily  I  do  rejoice,  for  my 
soul  sickeneth  at  coward  councils  ;  and,  so  long  as 
we  tarry  here,  we  be  not  like,  I  trow,  to  meet  with 
brave  ones  !  Come  with  me,  Edgar  Ardenne,  and 
I  tell  thee  that  we  can  achieve  great  things  for  the 
deliverance  of  this  groaning  land — yea  !  and  work 
more  for  its  regeneration,  with  our  poor  hundreds 
and  the  Lord's  hand,  which  of  a  very  deed  shall 
smite  on  our  side — frail  vessels  though  we  be  and 
faithless — more  to  advance  the  liberties  of  England, 
than  Essex  with  his  tens  of  thousands !" 


CROMWELL. 


CHAPTER  III. 


219 


«'  Not  for  my  life  !  not  though  the  hosts  of  heaven 
Bend  down  their  knees  in  supphance  at  my  leet, 
And  woo  me  to  consent,  shall  one  poor  com 
Denie  my  palm  of  what  is  his  by  right— 
His  heritage— bequeathed  i'  the  olden  time 
From  honoured  sire  to  son,  and  last  to  him, 
Most  honoured,  who  should  heir  it  now,  as  iree 
As  Ins  great  soul-and  shall,  by  Heaven,  forme ! 

IT  was  a  sharp  clear  evening,  some  two  months 
later  than  the  undecided  action  of  Edgehill,  while 
both  the  armies  were  lying  in  their  winter  quarters 
—that  of  the  king  at  Oxford,  whither  he  had  im 
mediately  retired  after  his  treacherous  violation  ol 
the  truce   at   Brentford,   and  consequent  repulse 
from  London;  that  of  the  parliament  in  the  me- 
tropolis  and  its  vicinity— when  a  small  group,  com- 
posed  of  individuals  the  most  discordant  both  in 
character  and  outward  show,  was  gathered  in  th 
oriel  parlour  of  the  old  manor-house  of  Woodleigh 
affording   to  the  eye  a  combination  singular  and 
picturesque.     Sir  Henry  Ardenne  stood  in  the  cen 
tre  at  the  oaken  table,  on  which  a  standish  was 
displayed  of  massy  silver,  with  implements  for 
writing,  and  a  long  scroll  of  parchment   careful ly 
engrossed,  and  decked  with  several  broad  seals  to 
which,  as  it  would  seem,  he  was  preparing  to  arhx 
his  signature.     His  figure,  still  jrecl  »d  -tetcly, 
was  clad  in  a  rich  military  suit  of  buff,  splendidly 
laced  with  gold,  booted,  and  spurred,  and  girt  with 
the  long  rapier  of  the  day ;  his  snow-white  locks 
huno-  down  on  either  cheek,  uncovered,  tor  an  at 
tendant  held  in  readiness  for  instant  use  his  high- 
crowned  beaver,  with  its  drooping  feather,  and  b 


320  CROMWELL. 

sad-coloured  riding  cloak.  His  noble  features  were 
knit  firmly  with  an  evident  expression  of  resolve, 
although  a  teardrop  might  be  seen  to  twinkle  in  his 
dark  eye  as  he  looked  down  upon  his  niece,  grov 
elling  in  the  dust  before  him,  prostrate,  and  cling 
ing  to  his  knees,  with  her  rich  hair  in  its  dishev 
elled  volumes  half  covering  her  lovely  form — with 
her  hands  clasped,  her  eyes  uplifted  to  his  face, 
her  lips  apart  but  motionless,  in  agony  of  tearless 
supplication.  A  hoary-headed  servant  watched,  at 
an  easy  distance,  the  development  of  the  sad  scene, 
with  every  wrinkled  feature  telling  of  his  affection 
ate  concern  ;  while  a  stout,  stolid-looking  yeoman, 
summoned,  it  might  be,  to  attest  a  signature, 
lounged  at  his  elbow,  staring  in  rude  indifference 
on  the  display  of  passions  with  which  his  boorish 
nature  vainly  sought  to  sympathize ;  a  small  man, 
meanly  clad  in  a  black  buckram  doublet,  with  an 
inkhorn  and  a  penknife  in  lieu  of  weapons  at  his 
girdle,  of  an  expression  impudently  sly  and  kna 
vish,  was  the  last  person  of  the  group  within  the 
manor  ;  but  without,  plainly  to  be  discovered  from 
the  casements,  there  was  assembled  a  fair  company 
of  horsemen,  gayly  equipped  in  the  bright  flutter 
ing  garb  affected  by  the  cavaliers,  with  the  old 
banner  of  the  house  of  Ardenne  unfurled  and 
streaming  to  the  wintry  wind,  and  a  groom  leading 
to  and  fro  the  favourite  charger  of  the  head  of  that 
high  name. 

"  No !  no  !"  cried  Sibyl,  in  tones  that  quivered 
with  excitement  till  they  were  barely  audible,  re 
sisting  the  slight  force  which  the  old  man  put  forth 
to  raise  her — "  no  !  no  !  I  will  not  rise.  Here  ! 
here  at  your  feet  will  I  remain  till  I  prevail  in  my 
entreaty  !  Oh,  you  were  wont  to  be  wise,  gen 
erous,  and  just !  Temperate  in  your  youth,  as  I 
have  heard  them  tell,  and  calm — be  then  yourself, 


CROMWELL.  221 

my  noble  uncle,  be  then  once  more  yourself,  nor 
sully,  by  this  deed  of  unconsidered  rashness,  a 
whole  long  life  of  wisdom  and  of  honour." 

"  It  may  not  be,"  he  answered,  quietly,  though 
not  without  an  effort,  as  he  compelled  her  to  arise 
— "  it  may  not  be.  The  time  allotted  to  our  race 
haj,h  now  run  out ! — the  house  of  Ardenne  is  ex 
tinct  with  the  old  miserable  man  who  stands  be 
fore  you  ! — the  lands  that  have  been  subject  to  my 
name  for  centuries  shall  never  know  it  more ! 
The  Lord  gave — the  Lord  hath  taken  away — bles 
sed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord !  But  would — oh, 
would  to  Heaven  that  his  corpse  had  mouldered  on 
some  foreign  battle-field — that  his  bones  had  been 
entombed  deep  in  the  caverns  of  the  sea — that  he 
had  died  by  any  death,  how  terrible  soever — that 
he  had  dragged  out  any  life,  however  wretched  and 
intolerable  !  Better,  far  better  had  it  been  so  to 
have  mourned  for  him,  than  to  have  seen  him  thus 
— a  blot — a  single  blot ! — on  an  unblemished  name  ! 
a  traitor  to  his  king — a  foeman  to  his  country — a 
curse  to  him  from  whom  he  drew  his  being  !  No  ! 
plead  to  me  no  more  ;  for  never,  never  shall  a  trai 
tor — a  fanatic  and  hypocrite  traitor — inherit  aught 
from  me  save  the  high  name  he  hath  disgraced. 
I  have — and  I  bless  Heaven  that  I  have  it — through 
his  own  act  of  treason,  the  right  to  sunder  this  en 
tail,  and  sundered  shall  it  be  ere  sunset !  He  hath 
no  corner  of  my  heart — no  jot  of  mine  affections  ; 
himself  he  hath  cut  out  his  path,  and — rue  it  as  he 
may — by  that  path  must  he  travel  now  unto  the  end 
— dishonoured — outcast — disinherited — accur — " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no  !"  she  shrieked,  in  frantic  tones, 
drowning  his  utterance  of  a  word  so  terrible  when 
coming  from  a  parent's  lips ;  "  curse  him  not  !— 
curse  him  not!  or  never  shall  you  taste  of  peace 
again.  Father,  curse  not  your  son — your  firstborn, 
T2 


222  CROMWELt. 

and  your  only  !  Sinner,  curse  not  your  fellow  \ 
Christian,  curse  not  a  soul,  whose  hopes  are  thy 
hopes  also  !  Curse  not,  but  pray  ! — pray — not  for 
your  erring  child — but  for  your  rash  and  sinful 
self!  Pray,  uncle,  pray  for  penitence  and  par 
don  !" 

Affected  somewhat  by  her  words,  but  yet  more 
by  the  fearful  energy  of  her  demeanour  than  by 
the  tenour  of  her  speech,  Sir  Henry  paused — but 
not  to  doubt,  much  less  to  bend  from  his  revenge 
ful  policy. 

"  In  so  far,  at  the  least,  fair  niece — in  so  far,  at 
the  least,"  he  said,  with  a  smile  evidently  forced 
and  painful,  "you  have  the  right  of  it.  'Tis  nei 
ther  Christianlike  to  curse,  nor  manly.  But  to 
this  gear,  good  Master  Sexby,"  he  continued,  turn 
ing  to  the  lawyer,  who  had  gazed  with  hardened 
coldness  on  the  affecting  scene  ;  "  this  deed,  you 
tell  me,  is  complete  and  firm  in  all  the  technicali 
ties  ?" 

"  As  strong  as  law  can  render  it,  Sir  Henry," 
returned  the  mean  attorney,  "  else  know  I  nothing 
of  mine  own  profession.  Since  Master  Ardenne, 
being  last  of  the  entail,  and  now  declared  a  traitor 
by  proclamation  of  his  majesty  at  Oxford,  could 
scarce  inherit,  even  without  this  deed  of  settlement 
on  Mistress  Sibyl  and  her  heirs — " 

"  Never  !"  she  answered,  in  a  calm,  low  voice, 
the  more  peculiar  from  its  contrast  to  the  fiery  ve 
hemence  she  had  before  displayed  ;  "  never  would 
I  receive  the  smallest  share,  the  least  particular  of 
that  which  is  another's — that  other  Edgar  Ar- 
«  denne,  too  ! — though  I  should  perish  of  starvation 
— never  !  And  heirs — what  tell  ye  me  of  heirs  ? 
Think  ye  that  J — I,  the  affianced  bride  of  such  a 
man — would  deign  to  cast  myself  away  on  his  in 
ferior  ?  No,  no  !  your  testament  is  nothing  worth. 


CROMWELL.  223 

Heirless  will  I  die,  or  die  the  wife  of  Ardenne ! 
What,  then,  avail  your  crafts  and  subtleties  of  law  ? 
I  spurn  their  false  and  fickle  toils  before  me,  as 
the  free  hawk  would  rive  asunder  with  his  unfet 
tered  wing  the  trammels  of  the  spider's  web  !" 

"  Peace  !  for  your  fame's  sake,  peace  !  degen 
erate  girl,"  the  old  man  sternly  answered  ;  "  would 
you  disclose  to  these  your  miserable  weakness — " 

"  To  these  ?  To  every  dweller  of  the  universal 
earth  would  I  avow  the  strength — theconsiancy — • 
the  immortality  of  my  legitimate  and  hallowed 
love  !  Affianced  in  my  youth,  by  thee  affianced, 
to  one  whom  both  my  reason  and  my  heart  prefer, 
why  should  I  shrink  to  own  it !  Weakness  ? — I 
tell  you,  uncle,  that  I  am  no  whit  less  strong — nay, 
ten  times  stronger  than  yourself — in  faith,  in  loy 
alty,  in  conscience,  in  resolve.  If  I  may  not  ap 
prove  his  actions — and  of  a  truth  I  do  not — I  may 
not  but  revere  his  motives  !  and  if  those  actions 
must  half  sever  the  strong  links  that  join  us,  and 
render  me  for  very  conscience'  sake  a  widowed 
maiden,  his  motives,  pure,  and  sincere,  and  fervent 
as  an  angel's  faith,  shall  at  the  least  forbid  me  to 
misjudge,  much  more  to  wrong  him.  Weakness  ? 
— I  tell  you  I  adore  him — adore  him  even  more 
for  this  his  constancy  to  what  he  deems  the  better 
cause,  when  every  fibre  of  his  heart  is  tugging  him. 
to  the  other — when  loss  of  name,  and  fame,  and 
fortune  must  be  the  guerdon  of  his  unflinching  and 
severe  devotion  to  a  mistaken  creed  !  Yet.  deeply, 
singly  as  I  love  him,  never  will  I  wed  Edgar  Ar 
denne  while  he  unsheaths  a  rebel  blade  or  prompts 
a  rebel  council.  I  tell  you  I  adore  him,  yet  will  I 
die  a  maiden  !  unless — "  and  she  paused,  for  a 
space,  in  her  most  eloquent  appeal,  as  if  to  mark 
what  influence  it  might  have  had  upon  the  mind  of 
her  stern  relative — "  unless,  by  this  your  madness, 


224  CROMWELL. 

you  drive  me  to  do  that  my  conscience  shrinks  from. 
Suffer  your  broad  lands  to  descend  to  him  who 
justly  heirs  them,  and  rest  assured  that  sooner  will 
I  die  than  marry  with  a  rebel !  Leave  them  to  me 
— as  in  the  madness  of  your  passion  you  propose 
— leave  them  to  me,  and  instantly  will  I  make  res 
titution  to  the  rightful  owner,  if  by  no  other  means, 
at  least  by  sacrifice  of  mine  own  conscience — 
mine  own  person !" 

"  Go  to ! — you  will  not,  Sibyl !"  exclaimed  the 
old  man,  vehemently  ;  "  I  know  you  better  than 
you  know  yourself — you  would  not  do  so,  were 
things  a  thousand  times  more  precious  than  these 
miserable  lands  dependant  on  your  action  !" 

"  And  wherefore  not  ?"  she  cried  ;  "  have  I  not, 
at  the  dictates  of  my  conscience,  cast  from  me  the 
affections  of  the  warmest  and  the  highest  heart  that 
ever  beat  for  woman  ?  Have  I  not  sacrificed  unto 
my  sense  of  loyalty — a  sense,  perchance,  fantastic 
or  mistaken — my  every  hope  of  happiness  on  earth  ? 
And  wherefore  shall  I  not  obey  the  voice  of  the 
same  counsellor,  and  to  a  sacrifice  less  grievous  ? 
Think  you  the  love  of  a  justice  is  a  less  eloquent 
or  weaker  advocate  than  the  mere  love  of  kings  ? 
But,  since  you  may  not  be  convinced  by  argument, 
nor  won  by  any  pleading,  hear  me  then  swear,  and 
hear  me  THOU,"  she  added,  solemnly  turning  up 
ward  her  bright  eyes,  flashing  with  strong  excite 
ment,  and  dilated  far  beyond  their  wonted  size — 
"  that  sittest  on  the  wings  of  cherubim — Thou  that 
hast  no  regard  for  kings,  nor  any  trust  in  princes, 
receive  my  vow  !"  She  paused  an  instant  as  if  to 
recollect  her  energies,  and  as  she  paused  a  deep 
voice  broke  the  silence — 

"  Swear  not,  my  gentle  cousin,"  said  the  slow, 
harmonious  voice ;  "  and,  above  all,  swear  not  for 
me!" 


CROMWELL.  225 

Instantly  every  eye  was  turned  in  the  direction 
whence  sounded  those  unusual  accents  ;  and  in  the 
sight  of  all,  upon  the  threshold  of  the  open  door, 
there  stood  a  tall  and  stately  figure,  wrapped  in  a 
horseman's  cloak  of  some  dark  colour,  and  wearing 
a  slouched  hat  and  falling  plume,  which  veiled  effec 
tually,  in  that  dim,  uncertain  light,  the  features  of  the 
speaker ;  but  their  concealment  mattered  not,  for 
every  heart  at  once,  and,  as  it  were,  instinctively, 
knew  Edgar  Ardenne,  whose  arrival,  with  the 
slight  bustle  that  accompanied  it,  had  passed  un 
noticed  during  the  all-engrossing  interest  of  the 
scene  in  which  those  present  were  engaged. 
"Swear  not  in  my  behalf,  dear  Sibyl,"  he  con 
tinued,  doffing  his  high-crowned  beaver,  and  dis 
playing  his  fine  lineaments,  haggard  and  pale  from 
violent  emotion,  "  nor,  if  you  love  me,  thwart  my 
father's  will.  In  good  time,  I  perceive,  have  I 
come  hither,  since  something  of  your  purpose 
reached  my  ears  ere  you  beheld  my  presence — " 

"  And  wherefore,"  his  father  fiercely  interrupt 
ed  him,  laying  his  hand  upon  his  rapier's  hilt — 
"  wherefore  have  you  presumed,  traitor  and  villain, 
thus  to  defile  these  honourable  halls  with  the  pol 
lution  of  your  footstep  ?  Have  you  come  sword  in 
hand,  leading  your  canting  and  psalm-singing  hyp 
ocrites,  to  spoil,  and  slay,  and  lead  into  captivity  ? 
or  have  you  come,  forsooth,  with  oily  words  and  a 
God-fearing  countenance,  to  preach  to  the  old  man 
the  error  of  his  ways,  that  he  too  may  unsheath  the 
sword  of  Gideon,  and  go  down  with  the  chosen  of 
the  Lord  to  strive  against  the  Philistines  in  Gilgal ! 
Such  is  the  style  of  your  new  comrades,  and  thou 
canst  mouth  it  with  the  best  of  them,  I  warrant 
me !  Canst  thou  not  preach  and  pray  ?  canst 
thou  not  quote  the  Scriptures  of  the  Lord  to  justify 
the  doings  of  the  devil  ?" 


226  CROMWELL. 

"  For  none  of  these  things  have  I  come,  my 
father,"  he  replied,  in  sad  and  humble  tones,  sink 
ing  upon  his  knee,  "  nor  yet  for  anything  that  may 
offend  or  grieve  you.  Hear  me,  I  do  beseech 
you  ;"  for,  by  the  angry  gesture  of  Sir  Henry,  he 
perceived  that  his  speech*was  like  to  be  cut  short 
— "  hear  me  but  for  a  short  while,  and  I  will  cease 
to  pain  you  with  my  presence." 

"Be  it,  then,  for  a  short  while,"  answered  the 
other,  nothing  mollified  by  the  calm  patience  of  his 
son, "  if  be  it  must  at  all — as  I  suppose  it  must,  for 
I  can  well  believe  that  you  have  some  five  hundred 
fighting  men  of  the  saints  to  back  you,  else  had 
you  never  ventured  hither.  Let  it  be  for  a  short 
while,  sirrah,  for  even  now  I  look  to  see  the  roof- 
tree  of  my  father's  house  topple  and  crush  the 
wretch  that  has  brought  infamy  on  all  it  shelters  !" 

"  Not  a  soldier — not  a  follower — riot  a  groom," 
said  Edgar,  sorrowfully  rising  —  "though  I  look 
not  that  you  will  credit  me,  is  with  me,  nor  yet 
within  ten  miles  of  Woodleigh.  Alone  I  have 
come  hither,  once  more  to  say  adieu,  and  crave — 
what  I  have  nothing  done  to  .  forfeit — a  father's 
blessing  !" 

"  'Tis  well,"  Sir  Henry  interrupted  him  in  a 
cold  strain  of  the  most  cutting  irony  ere  he  had  fully 
ended,  "  excellent  well,  indeed  !  So  get  you  on  with 
what  you  have  to  say,  as  I  in  turn  will  presently 
do  somewhat.  Anthony,  get  you  hence  and  fetch 
us  lights  ;  it  hath  grown  dark  betimes ;  and  you, 
good  Master  Hughson,"1ie  continued,  turning  to 
ward  the  yeomajj,  "  will  wait  our  leisure  in  the  but 
tery.  Now  ! — get  you  on,  son  Edgar." 

"  I  did  hope,"  sadly  replied  the  partisan,  "  that 
your  resentment,  sir,  had  in  so  far  abated  that  you 
might  have  endured  without  disgust  my  passing 
visit.  To  offer  you  the  reasons  for  my  conduct 


CROMWELL.  227 

were,  in  your  present  mood,  I  fear,  of  no  avail : 
suffice  it,  therefore,  to  inform  you  that,  though  I 
may  lose  much,  I  can  gain  nothing  by  the  part  I 
have  espoused — that  neither  power,  nor  place,  nor 
bribe  of  woman's  love,  nor  proffered  rank,  nor  yet 
the  baser  meed  of  gold,  hath  tempted  me — that  nei 
ther  gift  nor  guerdon  will  recompense  my  service, 
nor  aught  else  save  the  inward  quiet  of  an  innocent 
heart,  and  the  most  high  approval  of  HIM  who  can 
alone  interpret  it.  But  of  this  enough.  This  deed, 
if  I  mistake  not,  which  now  but  waits  your  signa 
ture,  is  destined  to  deprive  me  of  my  heritage. 
My  father,  as  the  last  save  me  in  the  entail,  and  I 
proclaimed  a  traitor,"  he  continued,  turning,  to  ward 
the  lawyer,  "  hath,  as  you  deem  it,  the  power  to 
alienate  this  property.  Hold !  interrupt  me  not ; 
it  may  be  that  he  hath — provided  always  that  the 
party  which  proclaimed  me  traitor  shall  come  off 
victorious  in  the  end,  and  masters  !  If  not,  your 
deed  is  nothing.  But  think  not" — and  he  turned 
again  toward  his  father — "  think  not,  I  do  beseech 
you,  sir,  that  I  would  for  one  moment  condescend 
so  to  inherit  what  you  would  not  that  I  should  pos 
sess.  Annul  this  futile  deed,  and  I,  the  last  in  tail, 
will  join  with  you  to  sever  that  entail  for  ever ! 
Let  this  man  execute  thfe  papers,  and,  whensoever 
needed,  my  signature  shall  be  forthcoming  !  So, 
whether  king  or  commons  win  the  day,  shall  you 
be  sole  disposer  of  your  broad  possessions.  The 
son  whom  you  abhor  would  freely  barter  all  for  one 
short  word  of  kindness — for  one  last  blessing  from 
a  father,  at  whose  command  how  gladly  would  he 
sacrifice  all  save  his  conscience  and  his  honour !" 

"  I  take  you  at  your  proffer,"  rejoined  the  baronet, 
without  one  symptom  of  relenting  in  his  hard  eye 
—without  "one  sign  of  soft  or  kind  emotion  at  the 
devoted  generosity  of  his  discarded  son ;  "  base 


228  CHOMWELL. 

knaves  although  they  be  with  whom  you  have  de 
scended  to  consort,  I  can  rejoice  you  have  not  lost 
all  your  nobility  of  soul.  I  take  you  at  your  prof 
fer.  Affix  your  signature  and  seal  to  this  blank 
parchment — for  it  may  well  be  we  shall  never 
meet  again — and  here  1  pledge  to  you  my  knightly 
word  of  honour  that  it  shall  be  applied  as  you 
have  said,  and  to  no  other  end." 

A  large  tear  stood  on  either  cheek  of  Edgar  as, 
with  a  steady  hand,  and  firm  though  darkened 
countenance,  he  signed  his  name  in  bold,  free  char 
acters,  and  so  surrendered  for  himself  and  for  his 
heirs  the  title  to  that  noble  patrimony  which  for 
so  many  ages  had  been  graced  by  the  high  virtues 
of  his  ancestry.  But  the  tear  flowed  not,  nor  was 
the  brow  o'ercast  for  any  selfish  thought — by  any 
sorrow  for  the  wealth  thus  forfeited — by  any  fond  re 
gret  for  the  old  home  of  happier  days  thus  lost  for 
ever.  At  other  times  such  feelings  would  have, 
perhaps,  been  busy  at  his  heart — would  have,  per 
haps,  excluded  every  other  sentiment;  but  now  it 
was  the  coldness  of  the  father's  tone,  the  stern  and 
firm  resolve  of  hatred  which  had  possessed  the  fa 
ther's  heart,  that  clouded  the  broad  forehead  of  the 
son  and  dimmed  his  eye.  Quietly  he  replaced  the 
pen  upon  the  standish,  and  once  more  sinking  on 
his  knee,  "  Father,"  he  said,  in  faltering  and  husky 
tones,  "  I  never  yet,  save  in  this  one  respect,  have 
disobeyed  or  grieved  you;  your  blessing,  oh  my 
father !" 

"  My  blessing  to  a  rebel — to  a  hypocrite — a 
traitor ! — not  though  my  life  should  pay  for  my  re 
fusal  !"  thundered  the  pitiless  old  cavalier.  "  Be 
grateful  that  I  curse  you  not — be  grateful,  not  to 
me,  but  to  yon  pale  and  suffering  angel,  whom 
your  false  villany  hath  blighted,  for  she  alone  with 
holds  it.  Begone  ! — why  tarry  you  ?  Begone,  and 


CROMWELL.  220 

never  let  me  look  upon  you  more !  Begone,  an 
outcast  from  my  heart  for  ever !" 

For  a  minute's  apace  he  stood,  fixed  as  the  el 
dest-born  of  Niobe,  pierced  by  the  arrow  of  the 
vengeful  god — pale,  motionless,  and  voiceless  ! — 
the  wretched  girl  had  sunk,  at  the  last  fearful  words, 
mercifully  deprived,  for  a  short  space,  of  sentiment 
and  reason ;  his  father  stood  between  them,  with 
flashing  eyes  and  arms  extended,  as  if  he  wanted 
but  a  pretext  to  launch  upon  his  head  the  awful 
terrors  of  a  paternal  curse.  It  was  but  for  a  min 
ute  that  he  stood  doubtful  and  unresolved  ;  his 
pulse  beat  hurriedly,  his  sinews  quivered,  his  lip 
paled  with  anguish — yet  in  one  little  minute  was 
the  paroxysm  ended.  "  Bless  you,  my  father,  bless 
you  !"  he  exclaimed,  in  piteous  and  heartrending 
tones  ;  "  may  the  great  Ruler  of  the  universe  pro 
tect  and  bless  you  !  Oh,  may  you  never  know  the 
anguish  you  have  this  day  heaped,  fiercer  than  the 
coals  of  fire,  on  the  heart  of  a  despairing  child  ! 
Farewell — farewell !" 

He  turned,  and,  ere  a  word  could  be  pronounced 
— a  motion  made  to  intercept  him,  vanished  into 
the  darkness  of  the  hall.  Then,  and  not  till  then, 
did  the  hot  anger  of  the  old  man's  heart  relent ; 
"  Edgar,"  he  gasped,  in  faint  and  faltering  tones, 
"  my  boy — my  boy  !"  but  so  low  was  the  intona 
tion  of  his  voice  that  it  reached  not  the  ears  of 
him  who  would  have  welcomed  those  half-uttered 
words  even  as  a  voice  from  heaven.  The  aged 
servant,  who  had  watched  the  scene  in  silent  ag 
ony,  sprang  forth  as  to  recall  him — but  again  it 
was  too  late  !  The  angry  clatter  of  his  horse's  hoofs 
upon  the  pavement  of  the  court  alone  announced 
the  keenness  of  the  goad  that  rankled  in  the  bosom 
of  the  rider ;  and  ere  an  effort  could  be  made  to 
overtake  his  flight,  the  demon  pride  had  once  more 

VOL.  I.— U 


230  CROMWELL. 

gained  ascendency,  and  with  a  darker  frown  and 
colder  accents  than  before,  Sir  Henry  now  for 
bade  all  farther  care — consigned  his  hapless  niece 
to  her  attendants — gave  brief  directions  to  the  law 
yer  for  the  fulfilment  of  his  cruel  policy — mounted 
his  horse,  and  rode  away,  self-satisfied  and  stern, 
through  the  chill  darkness  of  the  wintry  night,  to 
join  the  king  at  Oxford  ere  he  should  raise  the 
standard  for  his  second  sad  campaign. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  Fjourish'd  the  trumpets  fierce,  and  now 
Fired  was  each  eye  and  flush'd  each  brow. 
On  either  side  loud  clamours  ring — 
'  God  and  the  cause' — '  God  and  the  king' — 
Right  English  all,  they  rush'd  to  blows 
With  naught  to  win  and  all  to  lose. 
I  could  have  laugh'd — but  lack'd  the  time — 
To  see,  in  phrenesy  sublime, 
How  the  fierce  zealots  fought  and  bled 
For  king  or  state,  as  humour  led." 

SCOTT'S  Rokeby. 

THE  winter  had  already  passed  away,  and  with 
it  every  hope  of  present  reconciliation  between  the 
monarch  and  his  parliament.  Early  in  March  the 
royal  hosts  were  in  the  field,  one  in  the  western 
counties,  commanded  by  the  king  in  person,  and 
the  most  dashing  of  his  generals,  impetuous  Ru 
pert — another  in  the  north,  under  the  gallant  New 
castle,  the  noblest  gentleman  and  most  accom 
plished  soldier  who  fought  beneath  the  banners  of 
his  sovereign.  During  the  first  months  of  the  year 
the  tide  of  fortune  had  flowed  constantly  in  favour 
of  the  cavaliers.  In  March,  a  desperate  action, 
fought  upon  Hopton  Heath,  near  Stafford,  had  made 


CROMWELL.  231 

small  compensation  to  the  parliament,  by  the  death 
of  brave  Northampton,  for  the  defeat  of  Gell  and 
Brereton.  Rupert  had  taken  Cirencester,  treating 
his  captives  with  unmanly  and  relentless  cruelty ; 
and,  shortly  afterward,  in  the  same  sort  had  cap 
tured  and  half  burnt  the  flourishing  and  wealthy 
town  of  Birmingham.  Nor  had  the  occupatien  of 
Reading  by  the  Earl  of  Essex  brought  anything 
except  disaster  and  disease  upon  its  captors.  A 
dangerous  conspiracy  had  broken  out  among  the 
puritans,  and,  though  suppressed  and  punished  by 
the  deaths  of  the  two  Hothams,  Challoner,  and 
Tompkins,  had  yet  led  many  to  believe  that  seeds 
of  discord  were  already  sown  among  the  democratic 
party,  which  would  ere  long  destroy  their  una 
nimity  for  ever.  A  heavier  and  more  fatal  loss 
befell — not  his  own  party  merely,  but  the  whole 
realm  of  England,  in  the  untimely  death  of  Hamp- 
den,  mortally  wounded  in  a  trivial  skirmish  upon 
Chalgrove  field  in  Buckingham ;  he  died,  as  he 
had  lived,  a  patriot — a  martyr  to  the  cause  of  free 
dom — his  last  breath,  ere  he  rendered  up  his  spirit 
to  his  Maker,  expended  in  a  prayer  for  his  op 
pressed  and  bleeding  country.  Nor  had  the  parti 
sans  of  liberty  fared  much  more  hopefully  in  the 
North ;  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax,  after  a  short  but  un 
successful  stand  against  the  Marquis  of  Newcastle 
on  Atherton  Moor,  was  compelled  to  retreat  before 
his  victors,  who  pressed  on  with  much  energy  and 
vigour  to  recover  Gainsborough,  which  had  been 
stormed  and  garrisoned  by  the  Lord  Willoughby 
upon  the  parliament's  behalf.  In  this  important 
aim  they  scarcely  could  have  failed,  had  not  the 
leader  of  the  ironsides  with  his  brave  cavalry,  aug 
mented  in  their  numbers  to  full  two  thousand  men 
by  Ardenne's  junction — having  already  greatly  sig 
nalized  himself  by  the  defeat  of  a  superior  force  of 


232  CROMWELL. 

royalists  before  the  walls  of  Grantham,  and  by  the 
storm  of  Burleigh  house  and  Stamford — gallantly 
interposed  between  the  town  and  Newcastle's  ad 
vance.  The  enemy,  amounting  to  above  three 
times  his  number,  under  Lieutenant-general  Cav 
endish,  the  brother  of  the  marquis,  flushed  with 
their  late  success — composed  of  picked  men  for 
the  most,  and  officered  by  gentlemen  of  equal  gal 
lantry  and  rank  —  and  animated  by  the  highest 
spirit  of  loyal  bravery  —  had  occupied  a  station 
so  commanding  that  they  could  only  be  assailed 
by  passing  through  a  gateway,  and  charging  up  a 
steep  acclivity.  Yet  not  for  this  did  Cromwell 
hesitate  an  instant ;  but,  personally  leading  on  his 
troopers,  he  resolutely  rushed  upon  them,  and,  after 
a  brisk  conflict,  routed  them  utterly,  forcing  them 
from  their  position  into  a  deep  morass,  and  killing 
Cavendish,  with  most  of  their  superior  officers. 
Burning  for  vengeance,  the  main  body  of  the  roy 
alists,  neglecting  Gainsborough,  pushed  on,  and 
with  such  overwhelming  numbers  that  Cromwell 
was  compelled  to  fall  back  first  on  Lincoln,  and 
thence  immediately  on  Boston,  uniting  there  his 
forces  with  the  army  of  the  Earl  of  Manchester, 
whom  he  had  been  appointed  with  all  speed  to  re- 
enforce,  as  second  in  command  to  that  stanch  no 
bleman.  Upon  this  point  Newcastle  marched, 
eager  for  battle,  and  desirous  to  engage,  before  the 
host  of  Manchester  should  be  increased  by  new  ac 
cessions,  which,  as  he  learned,  were  swelling  day 
by  day  his  ranks ;  having  detached  Sir  John  Hender 
son,  an  old  and  well-proved  soldier,  in  advance,  with 
eighty-seven  troops,  horse  and  dragoons,  to  seek 
out  Cromwell,  and  bring  him,  ere  the  earl  could 
aid  him  with  his  infantry,  to  action  at  a  disadvan 
tage. 

It  was  a  glorious  morning  in  the  latter  part  of 


CROMWELL  233 

June,  and  at  an  hour  so  early  that  the  heavy  dews 
of  summer  were  yet  hanging  unexhaled  on  wold 
and  woodland,  although  the  sun  had  lifted  his  broad 
disk  above  the  horizon,  when  the  two  armies 
came  in  view  on  Winsley  field,  near  Horncastle. 
It  was  a  gallant  and  a  graceful  spectacle  as  ever 
met  the  eye  of  man.  The  scene  a  broad  and 
waving  tract  of  moorish  meadow  land,  checkered 
with  many  a  patch  of  feathery  coppice — birch,  ash, 
and  alder — tufts  of  furze  full  of  its  golden  bloom, 
and  waving  fern — and  here  and  there  a  bare  gray 
rock  peering  above  the  soil,  or  a  clear  pool  of 
water  reflecting  the  white  clouds  that  hung  aloft 
all  motionless  in  the  blue  firmament — and  over 
this  romantic  champaign  a  magnificent  array  of 
horse,  four  thousand  at  the  least  in  numbers,  con 
tracting  or  extending  their  bright  squadrons,  now 
falling  into  column  and  now  deploying  into  line, 
as  best  they  might  among  the  obstacles  of  this 
their  battle-ground  —  their  polished  armour  and 
their  many-coloured  scarfs  now  flashing  out  su 
perbly  as  the  sunshine  kissed  their  masses  with  its 
golden  light,  now  sobered  into  mellower  hues  as 
some  great  cloud  would  flit  across  the  sky  and 
cast  its  sweeping  shadow  over  them — their  trump 
ets  ever  and  anon  waking  the  echoes  of  the  wood 
lands  that  surrounded  them  on  every  side  with 
their  exulting  notes,  and  their  gay  standards  flut 
tering  in  the  breeze — their  gallant  chargers,  arch 
ing  their  necks  against  the  curb,  bounding  and  cur 
vetting  along  as  if  they  panted  for  the  onset — while 
toward  the  eastern  limits  of  the  plain,  upon  a  gen 
tle  elevation,  flanked  on  the  one  side  by  the  gully 
of  a  deep  and  stony  brook,  and  on  the  other  by  a 
coppice,  tangled  with  ancient  thorns,  and  matted 
with  wild  rose  briers,  which  protected  likewise  the 
whole  rear  of  his  position,  Cromwell  had  formed 
U2 


234  CROMWELL. 

his  line.  Nor,  though  inferior  far  in  numbers,  and 
lacking  $11  that  chivalrous  and  splendid  decoration 
which  their  floating  plumes  and  gorgeous  dresses 
lent  to  the  cavaliers,  could  his  dark  squadrons  have 
been  looked  upon  without  attention — ay,  and  admi 
ration  also,  by  the  most  unromantic  of  observers. 
The  admirable  discipline  and  perfect  armature  of 
the  stern  zealots  who  composed  the  ranks — the 
plain,  but  soldierly  and  bright  accoutrements — the 
horses,  superior  even  to  the  chargers  of  the  royal 
ists  in  blood,  and  bone,  and  beauty,  and,  above  all, 
in  that  precise  and  jealous  grooming,  without  which 
all  the  rest  are  little  worth — the  grim  and  stubborn 
countenances  of  the  riders — some  animated  with  a 
fiery  zeal  that  would  have  smiled  exultingly  upon 
the  stake  of  martyrdom,  some  lowering  with  a  dark 
and  sullen  scowl,  but  all  severe,  and  resolute,  and 
dauntless  !  A  single  glance  sufficed  to  tell  that 
every  battle-field  to  them  must  be  a  triumph  or  a 
grave ! 

Silent  they  stood  and  motionless — their  long  ar 
ray  drawn  up,  two  deep,  by  squadrons  at  brief  in 
tervals — solemn  and  voiceless,  presenting  a  strange 
contrast  to  the  shifting  movements  and  the  intricate 
manoeuvres  of  their  approaching  enemy.  Not  a 
man  moved  in  his  saddle,  not  a  sound  broke  the 
quiet  of  their  discipline,  save  now  and  then  the 
stamp  and  neigh  of  an  unruly  charger,  or  the  sharp 
clatter  of  his  steel  caparison.  And  now  the  cava 
liers,  within  a  short  mile's  distance,  having  already 
cleared  the  broken  ground,  might  be  seen  halting 
on  the  farther  verge  of  the  smooth  space  which 
swept  away  toward  them  in  a  gentle  slope,  un- 
marred  by  bush,  or  brake,  or  obstacle  of  any  kind 
to  the  career  of  the  most  timid  rider  ;  when,  with 
some  three  or  four  of  his  most  trusty  captains, 
Cromwell  advanced  before  his  lines.  Of  stout, 


CROMWELL.  235 

ungainly  stature  when  dismounted,  none  showed 
to  more  advantage  on  his  warhorse,  and  in  full  ca 
parison  of  battle,  than  did  the  colonel  of  the  iron 
sides.  It  was  not  that  his  seat  was  graceful,  or 
that  he  ruled  his  charger  with  the  ease  of  the  man 
ege,  but  that  he  swayed  him  with  an  absolute  do 
minion,  which  seemed  to  arise  rather  from  his  mere 
volition  than  from  the  exercise  of  strength  or  skill. 
His  whole  soul  seemed  engrossed  by  the  approach 
ing  conflict — careless  of  self,  exalted,  and  enthu- 
siastical.  His  eyes  flashed  with  a  brightness  al 
most  supernatural  from  the  dark  shadow  of  his 
morion,  and  his  whole  visage  wore  an  aspect  so  ir 
radiate  with  energy  and  mind,  that  Edgar  wonder 
ed  how  he  ever  could  have  deemed  him  ill-favoured 
or  ungraceful.  His  horse,  a  superb  black,  bore 
him  as  if  he  too  were  conscious  of  Divine  author 
ity  ;  and  such  was  the  commanding  greatness  of 
his  whole  appearance,  that  no  human  eye  could 
have  descended  to  remark  the  plainness  of  his  war- 
array  !  Of  the  small  group  of  officers  who  rode 
beside  the  bridle  of  their  leader,  the  most  were  or 
dinary  looking  men,  burghers  of  Huntingdon,  or 
small  esquires  of  the  surrounding  country,  selected 
for  the  stations  which  they  occupied,  by  the  wise 
politician  who  had  levied  them,  on  account  of  those 
morose  and  gloomy  tenets  which,  with  an  early 
prescience,  he  discovered  to  be  the  only  power  that 
might  cope  with  the  high  spirit  of  the  gentlemen 
who  formed  the  bulk  of  their  antagonists — men 
who  affected,  or  imagined  visions  and  transports — 
who  believed  themselves  predestined  instruments, 
and  deemed  that  in  the  slaying  of  malignants  they 
were  doing  an  especial  service  to  the  God  whose 
chosen  servants  they  declared  themselves,  with  a 
faith  in  the  truth  of  the  assertion  which  rendered 
them  almost  invincible.  Among  these  plain  and 


236  CROMWELL. 

heavy-looking  soldiers,  the  form  of  Ardenne,  high 
born,  and  full  of  the  intuitive  and  untaught  grace 
of  noble  blood,  gallantly  armed  and  handsomely  at 
tired — for  he  was  not  one  of  those  who  fancied  that 
the  approbation  of  Heaven  could  be  won  by  a  rusty 
corslet  or  an  ill-blacked  boot — mounted  on  a  dark 
chestnut,  thoroughbred,  yet  powerful  enough  to  bear 
a  man-at-arms  fully  accoutred  through  the  longest 
day,  showed  like  a  glorious  falcon  among  a  tribe  of 
buzzards;  yet  even  he,  handsome,  and  young,  and 
fairly  clad,  filled  not  the  eye  like  the  majestic  per 
son  of  his  colonel.  At  a  quick  trot  they  swept 
along  the  lines,  inspecting  their  array,  with  now  a 
word  of  commendation,  and  now  a  short  reproof,  to 
the  dark  fanatics  who  had  been  chosen  lance-pe- 
sades  or  sergeants  for  their  savage  and  enthusiastic 
humour.  Just  as  they  finished  their  career,  a  long 
and  cheery  shout,  accompanied  and  blended  with 
the  clang  of  kettle-drums  and  the  shrill  flourish  of 
their  trumpets,  burst  from  the  columns  of  the  cava 
liers,  now  wheeling  into  line  and  eager  for  the  onset. 
No  shout  or  burst  of  instruments  replied  from  the 
parliamentarians ;  but  their  leader,  at  the  sound, 
checking  his  charger  from  his  speed  till  he  reared 
bolt  upright,  threw  forth  his  arm  with  a  proud  ges 
ture  of  defiance  ;  "  Brethren,"  he  called  aloud,  in 
accents  harsh  but  clearly  audible,  and  thrilling  to 
the  heart — "  Brethren  and  fellow-soldiers  in  the 
Lord,  the  men  of  Belial  are  before  you — the  perse 
cutors  of  the  saints — the  spillers  of  the  innocent 
blood — godless  and  desperate  ! — slayers  of  babes 
and  sucklings — ravishers  of  maids  and  matrons — 
revilers  of  the  prophets  and  the  law — accursed  of 
the  Lord  Jehovah !  Wherefore,  faint  not,  nor  be 
of  feeble  heart,  for  surely  on  this  day  shall  the 
Lord  yield  them  up  into  your  hands,  that  ye  may 
work  his  vengeance  on  their  heads,  and  execute  his 


CROMWELL.  237 

judgments.  For  said  he  not  of  old,  '  Lo !  I  will 
tread  them  in  my  anger,  and  trample  them  in  my 
fury ;  and  their  blood  shall  be  sprinkled  upon  my 
garments,  and  I  will  stain  all  my  raiment.  For  the 
day  of  vengeance  is  in  my  heart,  and  the  year  of 
my  redeemed  is  come  !'  So  saith  the  Lord  of 
Hosts.  Amen  !  amen  !  Selah  !" 

And,  with  a  deep  and  sullen  hum,  the  puritans 
took  up  the  words — "  So  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts. 
Amen  !  amen  !  Selah  !" 

"  And  are  not  we,"  continued  the  fierce  zealot, 
with  increasing  energy — "  and  are  not  we — blinded 
although  we  be,  and  ignorant  and  sinful — I  ask  ye, 
brethren,  are  not  we  the  chosen  of  the  Lord,  and 
shall  we  not  obey  his  bidding  ?  Smite  them,  then 
— smite  the  idolatrous,  besotted  followers  of  the 
old  Antichrist,  even  as  just  Elijah  slew  the  priests 
of  Baal  down  at  the  brook  of  Kishon.  Be  strong, 
and  fear  ye  not !  For  lo  !  the  Lord  hath  said, '  Ye 
shall  not  suffer  one  of  them  to  live  !'  and  who  are 
we  that  we  should  now  gainsay  the  bidding  of  the 
Lord,  even  the  Lord  of  Hosts  ?  Lift  up  your 
voices,  then,  that  yon  malignants  may  perceive  in 
whom  we  put  our  trust." 

Again,  and  in  a  sterner  and  more  heartfelt  shout, 
the  approbation  of  the  puritans  greeted  their 
leader's  ears ;  and  as  he  ceased,  with  brandished 
blades  and  inflamed  features,  and  with  voices  that 
drowned  utterly  the  feebler  music  of  the  cavaliers, 
already  confident  of  victory  and  maddened  with  re 
ligious  zeal,  they  thundered  forth  their  favourite 
hymn. 

"  What  saith  the  God  of  battles,  the  mighty  Lord  of  Hosts  ? 

Ye  shall  prevail  against  them,  though  loud  their  godless  boasts  ! 
Ye  shall  destroy  them  utterly,  and  root  them  fro.n  the  land, 
For  I  will  give  ye  strength,  and  edge  your  battle  brand ! 

"  '  At  the  rebuke  of  one  shall  mighty  thousands  fly, 
For  I  have  heard  my  people's  prayer,  their  sad  and  grievous  cry ! 


238  CROMWELL. 

And  I  will  raise  my  glorious  voice,  that  it  be  heard  afar, 

And  show  the  lightning  of  my  hand — my  right  hand — in  the  war. 

"  '  Wo  unto  them  that  put  their  trust  in  the  Egyptian's  crown — 
His  chariots  and  his  horsemen — his  power  and  his  renown  ! — 
The  Egyptian  he  is  man— not  God— in  whom  they  put  their  trust ; 
His  horses  are  not  spirit — but  frail  and  fleeting  dust ! 

«' '  When  I  stretch  out  my  hand,  together  they  shall  fall, 
The  helper  and  the  holpen — yea  !  they  shall  perish  all ! 
Of  old  ordain'd  was  Tophet ;'  for  the  king  it  was  made  hot, 
As  thorns  that  in  the  furnace  blaze,  or  briers  beneath  the  pot ! 

"  '  But  ye — ye  are  my  people— the  ransom'd  of  my  soul ! 
Glory  shall  be  your  heritage,  Jerusalem  your  goal ! 
And  the  sceptre  shall  not  leave  ye,  and  the  crown  shall  not  depart 
From  the  faithful  house  of  Judah — from  the  chosen  of  my  heart !' " 

The  fierce  strains  ceased,  and  a  loud  acclamation 
followed  them,  solemnly  breathing  a  sublime,  yet 
savage  spirit  of  defiance,  and  was  responded  to  im 
mediately  by  the  huzzahs  of  the  advancing  cava 
liers,  and  the  rich  symphonies  of  horn  and  kettle 
drum.  A  small  reserve  of  some  five  hundred  men 
was  posted  in  the  rear,  and,  in  one  mighty  line,  the 
rest  swept  forward  at  a  brisk  trot,  the  front  rank 
with  their  carbines  all  unslung  and  matches  light 
ed.  Cromwell  gazed  steadfastly  upon  them  for  an 
instant — then  his  eye  lightened  and  his  lip  curled 
scornfully  as  he  addressed  his  second  in  command. 
"  Lieutenant-colonel  Ardenne,"  he  exclaimed, "  dis 
mount  two  hundred  of  our  best  dragooners,  and, 
under  Fight-the-good-fight  Egerton,  let  them  file 
down  that  gulley  to  our  left,  and  fire  constantly  on 
the  advance  of  these  misproud  malignants."  With 
out  a  moment's  pause  the  order  was  transmitted 
and  obeyed,  and,  ere  five  minutes  had  elapsed,  the 
party  was  detached  and  scrambling  down  the  rocky 
bed  of  the  ravine,  unnoted  by  the  royalists,  under 
the  guidance  of  as  morose  and  bold  a  puritan  as 
ever  levelled  musket  or  misquoted  holy  writ.  "  Sir 
Edmund  Winthrop,"  Oliver  continued,  "  your  stout 
lieutenant,  shall  hold  your  regiment,  as  our  reserve, 


CROMWELL.  239 

• 

here  on  this  ground  of  vantage — but  shall  not  stir 
from  it  unless  at  your  command  or  mine.  We  will 
not  tarry  for  their  charge,  but  meet  them  horse  to 
horse — in  onset  of  alternate  squadrons.  I  lead  the 
first  division,  you  shall  support  me  with  the  second. 
When  you  shall  hear  my  bugle  sound  a  recall  and 
rally,  then  strike  in,  and  the  Lord  strike  with  you. 
'  Truth'  is  our  word  and  '  Peace.'  Amen  !  Selah  !" 

Even  as  he  spoke,  the  royalists  gave  fire  from 
their  first  rank,  but  at  too  great  a  distance  to  do 
execution,  and  halted  to  reload.  "  Steady,  men !" 
shouted  Cromwell,  whose  sword  was  not  yet  drawn, 
from  the  extreme  left,  as  he  perceived  a  demonstra 
tion  of  anxiety  to  charge  among  his  troopers — 
"  steady,  men  ;  let  them  come  nigher,  and  when 
they  fire  again,  shoot  also  ye,  upon  their  flash, 
through  your  whole  line ;  and  instantly,  alternate 
squadrons  from  the  left,  charge  on  them  ere  they 
may  reload  !" 

Scarce  had  he  ended  ere  the  line  again  advanced 
on  a  hard  trot ;  a  single  shot  rang  from  the  gulley, 
broken  and  fringed  with  thorns  and  alder-bushe's— 
another,  and  another — a  rapid  and  continuous  fire  of 
skirmishers,  picking  off  half  a  score  of  officers,  and 
throwing  the  right  wing  of  the  royalists  into  some 
slight  confusion ;  on,  however,  they  still  came,  their 
banners  rustling,  and  their  gay  plumes  and  baldrics 
fluttering  in  the  wind,  while,  trusting  to  make  such 
impression  on  the  main  host  of  the  puritans  as 
should  cause  their  ambuscade  to  be  of  no  effect, 
they  hurried  to  the  onset.  On  they  came,  resolute 
and  dauntless  !  Their  bugle  sounded,  for  the  gallop 
— for  the  charge  !  and,  at  the  latter  call,  again  the 
levelled  carbines  rose  to  the  riders'  cheeks  —  a 
bright  flash  ran  along  their  line,  and  a  dense  veil 
of  smoke  covered  their  orderly  and  brilliant  front. 
Before  it  cleared  away,  the  shattering  volley  of  the 


240  CROMWELL. 

puritans,  poured  in  with  a  deliberate  aim,  made 
fearful  havoc  in  their  ranks,  and  on  the  instant, 
casting  aside  their  matchlocks  and  whirling  their 
long  rapiers  from  the  scabbards,  one  half  the  squad 
rons  of  the  parliament  hurled  themselves  furiously 
upon  the  advancing  foe.  Eagerly,  anxiously  did 
Edgar  gaze  upon  the  charge.  On  went  the  colo 
nel  of  the  ironsides,  six  horses'  lengths  in  front  of 
his  division,  and  all  as  gallantly  out  dashed  a  leader 
of  the  king's  to  meet  him — they  met,  and  it  was  but 
an  instant  ere  the  charger  of  the  royalist  ran  mas- 
terless,  and  its  unhappy  owner  rolled,  weltering  in 
his  blood,  beneath  the  trampling  hoofs  of  the  fierce 
puritans.  There  was  no  faltering — no  doubt  in 
either  line — forward  they  rushed,  all  straining  to 
the  charge,  their  horses  foaming  and  struggling 
against  the  bit,  and  their  swords  flashing  in  the  sun 
light.  Edgar  unsheathed  his  rapier,  for  now  a 
horse's  length  scarce  intervened ;  yet  neither  host 
had  pausecl  or  turned  aside.  And  now  they  were 
encountering,  when  the  rear  rank  of  the  cavaliers 
threw  in  with  desperate  execution  their  reserved 
volley,  shaking  the  line  of  the  parliamentarians  like 
an  earthquake,  emptying  scores  of  saddles,  and 
hurling  riders  and  horses  headlong  to  the  earth. 
The  smoky  curtain  once  again  swept  over  them ; 
it  cleared  away,  and  Ardenne  saw  his  fellow-troop 
ers,  unbroken  and  in  close  array,  so  orderly  had 
they  closed  in  above  the  falling,  now  mingled  hand 
to  hand,  and  fighting  with  the  cavaliers,  whose 
front  was  bending  like  a  bow — the  points,  on  which 
the  troops  of  Oliver  had  charged,  beat  backward  a 
full  pistol-shot,  and  the  alternate  squadrons  which 
had  met  no  foe  wavering  and  undecided  what  to 
do.  Sword  cuts  were  glancing  through  the  air  on 
helm  and  corslet — pistol-shots  flashed  among  the 
melee ;  and  the  shouts,  "  God  and  the  church" — 


CROMWELL  241 

"  God  and   the  king,"  blended  with   groans,  and 
yells,  and  curses,  and  the  clash  of  blades,  and  the 
wild  blast  of  trumpets,  pealed  dissonantly  to  the 
sky.     Still   Cromwell's    bugle    sounded   not,   nor 
were  his  men  drawn  off;  and  Ardenne  paused  in 
doubt.     His  eye  fell  suddenly  upon  the  form  of 
Oliver  fighting  among  the  foremost ;  another  volley 
from  a  small  knot  of  cavaliers,  and  he  fell — horse 
and  man — and  the  strife  closed  more  fiercely  round 
him  ;  at  the  same  instant  the  reserve  of  Henderson 
moved  up  to  re-enforce  his  battle.     Then  Edgar 
paused  no  longer — "  Forward  !"  he  shouted,  in  a 
voice  of  thunder — "  forward — charge  home  !"  and 
dashing  down  the  grassy  slope,  before  a  minute 
passed,  burst   like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the  unen 
gaged  divisions  of  the  enemy,  and,  killing  two  men 
with  his  own  hand,  drove  them  in  terrible  confu 
sion,  by  the  fury  of  his  onset,  back  on  their  own  re 
serve.     Turning  his  eye,  now  he  had  gained  a  mo 
ment's  leisure,  toward  the  spot  where  he  had  seen 
his  colonel  fall,  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  him  on  foot, 
fighting  with  desperate  courage  against  some  six  or 
eeven  horsemen,  who  were  hewing  at  him  all  to 
gether  with  their  long  broadswords,  and  hindering 
each  other  by  their  own  impetuosity.    Three  strokes 
of  his  good  sword,  and  the  superb  exertions  of  his 
charger,  placed  him  at  Cromwell's  side  just  as  he 
fell  to  the  earth,  stunned  but  unwounded  by  a  heavy 
blow.     One  of  the  cavaliers  received  the  point  of 
Edgar's  rapier  in  his  throat  before  he  checked  his 
horse  ;  the  others  were  engaged  and  beaten  back 
ward   by  the  foremost  of  his  troopers.     Hastily 
springing  to  the  ground  as  Oliver  regained  his  feet, 
"Mount,"  he  exclaimed,  "mount,  Colonel  Crom 
well,  on  my  horse,  and  finish  what  so  well  you  have 
begun !" 

Without  a  word  the  zealot  leaped  to  the  saddle, 
VOL.  I.— X 


242  CROMWELL. 

cast  his  eyes  with  a  quick  comprehensive  glance 
around  him,  and  read  the  fortunes  of  the  day  upon 
the  instant. 

"  They  are  half  beaten  now,"  he  shouted,  in  ex 
ulting  tones  ;  "  one  charge  more,  and  we  sweep 
them  like  dust  before  the  winds  of  heaven  !  Away, 
sir — down  with  the  reserve,  and  fall  upon  their  left 
flank.  I  will  draw  off  my  men,  and,  ere  you  be 
in  action,  will  be  prepared  to  give  it  them  again  in 
front.  Ho  !  bugler,"  he  continued,  as  Ardenne, 
mounting  his  brown  mare,  which  his  equerry  had 
led  up,  galloped  off  swiftly  to  the  rear — "  ho !  bu 
gler,  sound  me  a  recall  and  rally  !"  The  shrill 
notes  of  the  instrument  rang  aloud  above  the  din 
of  battle  ;  and  with  that  strict  obedience  for  which 
they  had  already  gained  repute,  the  ironsides  drew 
off  from  the  encounter  orderly,  and  beautifully 
formed  again,  before  the  shattered  and  disordered 
masses  of  the  cavaliers  had  fallen  into  any  sem 
blance  of  array.  In  the  mean  time  Ardenne  had 
reached  his  regiment,  the  men  burning  to  emulate 
the  glory  half  achieved  by  their  companions,  the 
horses  pawing  the  turf,  and  snorting  with  impa 
tience.  A  loud  shout  greeted  him  as  he  addressed 
them,  in  a  few  words  terse  and  full  of  fire,  formed 
them  by  troops  in  open  column,  and  advanced  be 
tween  the  coppice  on  his  right  and  the  extreme 
left  of  the  enemy,  now  near  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
pushed  forward  beyond  their  right  and  centre, 
which  had  been  most  disordered  by  the  fire  of  the 
skirmishers  and  Cromwell's  furious  charge.  So 
great,  indeed,  was  the  confusion  of  the  royalists, 
their  officers  toiling  along  the  ranks,  labouring  with 
oaths,  and  menaces,  and  exhortations  to  rally  and 
reform  the  men,  that  they  perceived  not  Ardenne's 
movement  till  he  was  wheeling  into  line  to  the  left 
previous  to  charging  them.  .Then,  when  it  was 


CROMWELL.  243 

too  late,  they  struggled  to  redeem  their  error  nobly 
but  fruitlessly;  for,  ere  they  could  show  front 
against  him,  the  trumpets  sounded — Oliver's  in 
front,  and  Edgar's  on  the  flank — and  simultaneously 
they  were  charged,  broken,  and  dispersed.  The 
action  was  already  over — but  the  rout,  the  flight, 
the  havoc,  the  despair,  the  hideous,  indiscrimina- 
ting  massacre,  urged  to  the  utmost  by  religious 
fury  and  political  rancour,  ceased  not  till  noon ; 
when  Cromwell's  bugles,  slowly  and  most  reluc 
tantly  obeyed,  called  back  the  men,  their  weapons 
blunted  and  their  arms  aweary,  but  their  hearts  in 
satiate  of  carnage,  from  the  hard-pressed  pursuit. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  Upon  the  bloody  field 
The  eddying  tides  of  conflict  wheel'd 
Ambiguous,  till  that  heart  of  flame, 
Hot  Rupert,  on  our  squadrons  came, 
Hurling  against  our  spears  a  line 
Of  gallants  fiery  as  their  wine ; 
Then  ours,  though  stubborn  in  their  zeal, 
In  zeal's  despite  began  to  reel." 
#****•* 
Brave  Cromwell  turn'd  the  doubtful  tide, 
And  conquest  bless'd  the  rightful  side. 

SCOTT'S  Rokeby. 

THOUGH  but  of  brief  duration  and  trifling  magni 
tude  as  to  the  number  of  the  troops  engaged  on 
either  hand,  yet  was  the  victory  of  Cromwell  upon 
Winsley  field  of  vast  importance,  when  considered 
in  its  bearings  on  the  general  aspect  of  the  war; 
since  by  it  only  was  the  Marquis  of  Newcastle 
prevented  from  co-operating  with  the  royal  forces 
in  the  West,  when,  elevated  as  they  were  in  spirit 


244  CROMWELL. 

by  the  defeat  of  Waller  upon  Roundway  Down, 
and  the  disgraceful  fall  of  Bristol,  they  might  too 
probably  have  marched  triumphantly  to  the  metrop 
olis,  had  they  been  re-enforced,  as  they  expected, 
by  the  northern  chivalry.     In  consequence  of  this 
repulse,  then,  Newcastle  sat  down  before  the  walls 
of  Hull,  while  Charles,  thus  disappointed  in  his 
schemes,  as  fatally  laid  siege  to  Gloucester,  which 
he  was  soon  compelled  to  raise  by  the  activity  of 
Essex.     The  desperate  drawn  battle  before  New- 
bury  ensued,  signal  for  nothing  but  the  death  of  the 
good  Falkland,  the  only  counsellor  that  now  re 
mained  about  the  king  who  could  be  deemed  a 
patriot  or  a  true  lover  of  the  English  constitution. 
The  Hampden  of  the  royalists,  this  gallant  noble 
man  fell  with  his  country's  name  the  last  sound  on 
his  lips ;  but  fell  not  till  he  had  become  aweary  of 
a  life  which  was  imbittered  so  by  the  disasters  of 
his  native  land,  that  he  was  wont   to  sink,  even 
when  circled  by  the  gayest  of  his  friends,  into  de 
sponding  apathy,  and  "  to  ingeminate,  after  deep  si 
lence  and  continual   sighs,  with  a  shrill  sad  ac 
cent,  the  words   '  Peace — peace  !' "     The   winter 
which  succeeded  was  by  the  cavaliers  spun  out  in 
feuds,  dissensions,  and  intrigues  among  themselves, 
the   king  remaining  obstinately  bent  on  prostra 
ting  all  opposition  to  his  will,  and  countenancing 
such  alone  of  his  advisers  as  urged  the  fiercest  and 
most  downright  measures.     Not  so  the  parliament 
at  Westminster,  in  which  the  independent  party 
were,  by  the  death  of  Hampden  first,  and  afterward 
of  Pym,  gaining  an  ascendency  which  was  increas 
ing  daily  through  the  abilities  of   Cromwell,  St, 
John,  and  the  younger  Vane,  the  leading   politi 
cians  and  debaters  of  the  lower  house.     The  en 
ergy  and  deep-laid  shrewdness  of  these  men  suf 
fered  not  one  false  step,  however  trivial,  on  the 


CROMWELL.  245 

part  of  Charles,  to  pass  unnoted  or  unimproved  to 
their  advantage  ;  and,  ere  the  spring  was  far  enough 
advanced  for  the  commencement  of  a  third  cam 
paign,  they  had  so  thoroughly  aroused  the  spirit  of 
the  land,  inflamed  already  by  the  king's  impolitic 
and  shameful  treaty  with  the  rebellious  Catholics 
of  Ireland,  that,  early  in  the  month  of  March,  five 
several  armies  were  on  foot !  Essex  preparing  to 
oppose  the  king  in  person — Waller  commanding  in 
the  West — the  Scotch,  who  had  invaded  England 
in  accordance  with  the  solemn  league  and  cove 
nant,  and  Fairfax,  with  his  Yorkshire  levies,  shutting 
up  Newcastle  in  York — and  Manchester,  with 
Cromwell's  cavalry,  hurrying  from  the  associated 
counties  of  the  East  toward  the  same  important 
point. 

And  now,  for  the  first  time  since  the  commence 
ment  of  the  war,  did  fortune  show  herself  in  favour 
of  the  liberal  party ;  the  total  and  complete  anni 
hilation  of  Lord  Hopton's  force  at  Alresford  by 
Waller,  was  in  itself  sufficient  to  compel  even 
Charles  to  give  up  all  attempt  at  a  campaign  on 
the  offensive.  Nor  was  this  all ;  for  Newcastle's 
express  advised  him  that  he  must  surrender  unless 
succoured  in  the  brief  space  of  three  weeks.  It 
was  on  this  intelligence  that  Rupert,  having 
achieved  much  reputation  and  some  eminent  suc 
cesses  in  that  large  county,  marched  out  of  Lan 
cashire  with  all  the  flower  of  the  royalists — drawn 
from  the  midland  counties,  burning  with  gallant 
ardour,  confident  in  their  successful  leader,  ap 
pointed  with  a  noble  train  of  ordnance,  and  re- 
enforced  by  Goring's  excellent  brigade  of  horse 
from  Lincolnshire — hastening  ably,  and  no  less  for 
tunately,  to  the  relief  of  York,  reduced  already  to 
extremity,  and  on  the  point  of  yielding  to  the  par 
liament.  During  the  dark  and  melancholy  winter 


246  CROMWELL. 

which  had  thus  elapsed,  Ardenne,  in  close  attend 
ance  on  his  duties,  whether  civil  in  the  house  at 
Westminster,  or  active  in  the  field,  had  struggled, 
with  more  of  steadiness  than  of  success,  to  banish 
from  his  heart  the  recollection  of  his  own  depressed 
and  well  nigh  hopeless  circumstances.  Of  his  im 
placable  and  stubborn  father  he  had  heard  but  little 
since  their  last  interview  at  Woodleigh,  save  that  a 
copy  of  the  document  for  the  securing  the  estates 
to  Sibyl  and  breaking  the  entail  had  been  trans 
mitted  to  him  for  inspection ;  and  that  a  rumour, 
as  it  proved  well  founded,  had  reached  London 
that  the  old  baronet,  having  been  strenuous  and  in 
cessant  in  stimulating  warlike  measures,  had  left 
Oxford  in  the  dead  of  winter,  dismantled  his  fine 
residence,  and  thrown  himself,  together  with  his 
niece,  into  the  capital  of  Yorkshire,  some  short 
time  only  ere  it  was  invested  by  the  united  troops 
of  Fairfax  and  the  Earl  of  Leven.  Such  was  the 
state  of  matters  when,  on  a  lovely  evening  of  July, 
some  few  days  after  the  strong  succours  under 
Manchester  and  Cromwell  had  joined  the  northern 
army,  Edgar  returned  from  a  reconnaissance  which 
he  had  been  sent,  in  consequence  of  rumours  that 
the  cavaliers  had  been  observed  in  force  toward  the 
neighbouring  towns  of  Wetherby  and  Bramham, 
to  execute,  with  his  whole  regiment,  in  that  direc 
tion.  During  the  two  days  which  had  been  con 
sumed  in  scouring  thoroughly  that  district  of  the 
country,  he  had  discovered  nothing  to  justify,  in 
any  sort,  the  vague  reports  which  had  prevailed 
ere  his  departure  from  the  camp  ;  and  it  was  there 
fore  much  to  his  amazement  that  he  perceived  the 
forces  of  the  parliament  drawing  off  from  the  siege 
in  no  small  hurry  and  confusion,  and  forming  line 
of  battle  upon  Marston  Moor,  some  eight  miles  to 
the  westward  of  the  city.  It  was  not  without 


CROMWELL,  247 

strenuous  exertion  that  Ardenne  found  at  length 
the  post  assigned  to  his  immediate  superior,  now 
lieutenant-general  of  the  horse,  who  was  intently 
occupied  with  Leslie,  Fairfax,  Manchester,  and, 
others  of  the  chief  commanders,  in  ordering  their 
array  so  as  to  intercept  the  gallant  host  of  roy 
alists,  some  twenty  thousand  strong,  with  which 
Prince  Rupert  had  wellnigh  surprised  them  in  their 
trenches.  Night  fell  upon  them  ere  the  task  was 
well  completed ;  yet  such  was  the  determination 
and  the  spirit  of  the  leaders,  such  the  quick  appre 
hension  and  obedience  of  the  soldiery,  that,  by  the 
aid  of  torches  and  the  long  summer  twilight,  their 
position  was  made  good;  and  that,  too,  on  the 
strongest  ground  that  could  be  chosen  from  the  ex 
tensive,  low,  and  somewhat  marshy  meadows  lying 
between  the  Ouse  and  the  great  Northern  road. 
Provisions  were  served  out,  with  liquor,  in  abun 
dance  to  the  troops,  who,  for  the  most  part,  passed 
the  night  upon  their  arms,  though  some  were  quar 
tered  in  the  neighbouring  villages,  commanding  the 
anticipated  line  of  Rupert's  march.  Patrols  of 
horse  and  foot  swept  the  surrounding  roads ;  the 
officers,  with  jealous  zeal,  made  constant  circuits 
of  the  host,  their  progress  being  clearly  indicated 
by  the  acclamations  of  the  men,  and  the  loud 
psalms  of  exultation  and  defiance  which  usually 
answered  their  inspiriting  addresses.  Yet  was 
their  active  energy  on  this  occasion  destined  to  be 
wasted ;  for  scarcely  was  their  host  arrayed,  ere 
the  discharge  of  ordnance  from  the  town,  and  the 
tremendous  cheering,  which  was  distinctly  borne 
to  the  ears  of  the  now  disappointed  puritans,  an 
nounced  that  Rupert — who,  by  the  aid  of  better  in 
formation  and  the  exertion  of  great  military  skill, 
had  executed  a  detour  far  to  the  right  of  their  po 
sition — was  actually  entering  the  beleaguered  city 


248  CROMWELL. 

from  the  eastward  side,  whence  they  had  drawn 
their  troops  in  the  vain  hope  to  intercept  him. 
Great  was  the  consternation  and  dismay  which  this 
discovery  created  in  the  breast,  not  of  the  privates 
only,  but  of  the  best  and  boldest  leaders  of  the  par 
liament;  and  in  no  less  degree  did  merriment  and 
wild  triumphant  revelry  possess  the  citizens,  re 
lieved  beyond  their  utmost  expectation.  Through 
out  the  livelong  night  the  eastern  sky  was  red 
dened,  wellnigh  to  the  zenith,  by  the  crimson  glare 
of  bonfires  blazing  in  every  street  and  court  within 
the  walls ;  while  the  square  towers  of  the  minster, 
illuminated  by  the  fierce  discoloured  light,  were 
visible  distinctly  at  some  miles'  distance,  their  huge 
bells  swinging  to  and  fro,  a  deafening  peal  of  short 
lived  exultation.  Upon  the  moor  a  council  was 
called  instantly,  and  sentries  posted  round  the  quar 
ters  of  the  Scottish  general,  with  the  avowed  inten 
tion  of  maintaining  an  inviolable  secrecy  concern 
ing  the  debates  of  the  stern  martialists  assembled 
there.  Such  was,  however,  the  tumultuous  and 
noisy  character  of  the  discussion  between  the  Eng 
lish  officers  and  the  fanatical  enthusiastic  Presby 
terian  clergy,  whom  the  Scotch  brought  habitually 
into  their  warlike  councils,  that  no  precaution  could 
have  hindered  the  entire  army  from  perceiving 
that  dissensions,  fired  by  their  religious  differ 
ences,  and  fed  to  wilder  heat  by  prejudice  and 
national  disgusts,  had  fallen,  with  a  perilous  and 
most  pernicious  influence,  upon  their  leaders.  It 
was  now  nearly  dawn,  when,  breaking  up  their 
long-protracted  session,  they  at  length  came  forth. 
,  Despondency  and  gloom  sat  heavy  on  the  resolute 
and  manly  brow  of  Fairfax  as  he  strode  forth  and 
leaped  into  his  saddle,  without  altering  his  garb, 
though  in  immediate  prospect  of  a  general  action. 
He  was  not,  indeed,  utterly  unarmed,  for  he  had 


CROMWELL.  249 

entered  the  court-martial  with  but  brief  time  for 
ceremony,  after  toiling  from  the  preceding  day 
break  at  the  evacuation  of  the  trenches  ;  yet  did 
he  lack  much  of  the  heavy  armature  which  was 
still  worn  by  officers  in  high  command.  A  buff 
coat,  richly  laced  with  silver,  its  open  sleeves  dis 
playing  the  white  satin  of  its  lining ;  stout  breeches 
of  the  same  material,  fringed  at  the  knee  with  costly 
Flanders  lace  ;  and  boots  of  russet  leather,  formed 
the  chief  part  of  his  defensive  dress,  although  he 
wore  a  short  but  highly  polished  breastplate,  half 
covered  by  his  falling  collar  from  the  looms  of  Va 
lenciennes,  and  by  the  sash  of  crimson  silk  and 
gold  which  was  wound  many  times  about  his  waist, 
supporting  his  long  silver-hiked  broadsword.  He 
bore  his  truncheon  in  his  hand,  and,  ere  he  mount 
ed,  buckled  on  his  head  the  open  baqinet  of  steel 
peculiar  to  the  day,  which  an'  attendant  held  in 
readiness.  Upon  the  faces  of  the  other  generals 
anger,  irresolution,  and  disgust  were  variously  but 
strongly  written ;  and  in  the  features  of  the  Scot 
tish  lords  especially,  Ardenne  imagined  he  could 
trace  a  settled  disaffection  for  the  service  they  had 
bound  themselves  to  execute.  No  time  was  lost, 
however,  and,  by.  a  series  of  manoeuvres,  not  less 
judiciously  than  rapidly  effected,  the  whole  position 
of  the  army  was  reformed  and  taken  up  anew  ;  so 
that  its  front,  which  had  originally  faced  toward 
the  west,  as  to  oppose  an  enemy  advancing  against 
York  from  that  direction,  was  now  turned  easterly, 
in  readiness  to  meet  the  sally,  which  they  hoped, 
rather  than  expected,  to  be  made  pn  them  from 
that  same  city.  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax,  with  his 
new-levied  Yorkshire  cavalry  and  three  Scotch 
regiments  of  horse,  held  the  extreme  right  wing, 
and  next  to  him  the  infantry  of  his  brave  father, 
with  two  brigades  of  Scottish  horse  in  readiness 


250  CROMWELL. 

for  his   support.     In  the  main  body  and  reserve 
were  all  the  regiments  of  Scottish  foot,  appointed 
well  and  officered  by  their  own  covenanting  lords, 
and  two  of  Manchester's  brigades ;  while  the  left 
wing  was  occupied  by  Cromwell,  with  all  his  iron 
cavalry,  and  three   good  regiments    of  Northern 
cuirassiers  under  Lieutenant-general  Leslie,   and 
Colonel  FrizelPs  regiment  of   Berwickshire  dra 
goons,  who  did  good  service  in  the  action,  posted 
yet  farther  to  the  left,  by  a  cross  ditch  intersecting 
the  main  dike,  whicR  ran  along  the  whole  front  of 
the  puritans,  excepting  a   brief  space  before  the 
Earl  of  Manchester's  pike-regiments.     The  plain, 
upon  the  western  side  of  which   the    army  was 
drawn  up,  was,  on  the  whole,  well  suited  for  a  gen 
eral  action,  being  of  considerable  extent,  entirely 
open,  and  untraversed  by  any  hedge  or  fence  save 
on  the  left,  where  a  long  narrow  lane  between  high 
banks  and  bushes  of  old  thorn  debouched  upon  the 
field,  forming  the  only  pass  by  which  Fairfax  could 
cross  the  drain  and  bring  his  horsemen  into  action. 
The  rear  of  the  parliamentarians  was  covered  by 
the  thickly-planted  orchards,  each  with  its  quickset 
fence,  the  narrow  garths  and  gardens  surrounded 
by  stout  walls  of  limestone,  and  the  young  planta 
tions  round  the  straggling  village  of,,  Long  Mars- 
ton  ;   which,  with  its  solid  cottages  of  masonry, 
would  form  an  excellenfand  easily-defended  point 
whereon  to  fall  back  if  repulsed  from  their  original 
position  ;  while  on  both  wings  the  strong  enclo 
sures  of  the  pasture  fields,  studded  with  hedgerow 
timber,  would  rpresent  most  serious  obstacles  to 
any  movement  of  the  enemy  to  overflank  them. 
Of  all  the  generals,  it  seemed  to  Edgar  that  Crom 
well  was  the  least  disturbed  in  mind  or  aspect ; 
yet  even  he,  as  he  addressed  his  ironsides,  spoke 
not  with  the  short,  terse,  and  energetic  style  which 


CROMWELL.  251 

he  Was  wont  to  use  when  he  chose  to  be  under 
stood,  but  in  interminable  and  confused  harangues, 
resembling  more  the  doctrinal  discourses  of  a  fa 
natical  and  visionary  preacher  than  the  heart-stir 
ring  oratory  of  a  dauntless  captain  ;  nor  did  he 
hesitate  to  declare  openly  to  Ardenne,  when  at  a 
little  distance  from  the  troopers,  that — "  Of  a  truth, 
there  is  sore  need  of  prayer  and  supplication — 
not  of  lip-service  or  knee-bending — but  of  soul- 
searching  cries,  of  earnest  and  continual  wrestling 
with  the  Lord ;  for  verily,  unless  he  work  great 
things  this  day  in  Israel's  behalf,  verily,  Edgar 
Ardenne,  you  shall  behold  this  host  melting  away 
like  snow  before  the  April  sunshine.  Unless  the 
God,  even  the  God  of  Battles — harden  the  hearts 
and  blind  the  understanding  of  yon  perverse  and 
fiery  Rupert,  even  as  of  yore  he  hardened  the  heart 
of  Pharaoh,  that  he  might  bring  him  to  destruction, 
with  his  captains,  and  his  chariots,  and  his  horse 
men — unless  he  do  all  this,  and  more,  I  tell  thee, 
we  shall  fall  into  the  pit  ourselves  have  digged ! 
If  the  prince  have  but  wisdom  to  abide  in  yon 
fenced  city  which  he  has  won  from  us,  then  shall 
you  see  the  carnal-minded  and  the  feeble-wilted  of 
the  host — those  who,  like  babes  and  sucklings,  may 
not  endure  the  rich  meats  and  strong  waters  of  the 
Word — those  who  are  ill-assured,  self-seekers,  and 
backsliders — then  shall  you  see  all  these,  and  they 
outnumber  half  our  army,  falling  away  by  tens,  by 
hundreds,  and  by  thousands  !  But  lo  !"  he  added, 
in  a  quick,  clear  voice,  strangely  at  variance  with 
the  drawling  snuffle  he  had  thus  far  adopted, 
"  whom  have  we  here  ?  Tidings,  I  trow,  from  my 
lord  general;"  for,  as  he  spoke,  a  youthful  officer 
dashed  at  a  hasty  gallop  up  to  his  side,  and  check 
ing,  for  a  moment's  space,  his  fiery  horse,  "  The 
earl,"  he  cried,  "lieutenant-general,  prays  you 


252  CROMWELL, 

will  hold  yourself  in  readiness  for  instant  action  ? 
Rupert  and  Newcastle  are  even  now  without  the 
gates,  and  marching  hitherward  to  fight  us  !" 

"  Said  I  not,"  shouted  Oliver,  so  loudly  that 
every  one  of  his  own  cavalry  might  catch  the  im 
port  of  his  words — "  said  I  not  that  the  Lord  would 
harden  the  heart  of  our  foe  and  blind  his  under 
standing  1  The  Lord  he  is  on  our  side  ;  blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Lord  P'  and  instantly  he  raised? 
with  his  own  tongue,  the  first  notes  of  a  hymn,  in 
which  he  was  accompanied  at  once  by  full  five 
thousand  deep  and  manly  voices, 

"Not  unto  us— not  unto  us  be  given 
The  glory  and  the  praise — 
Nor  to  the  mortal  sword — 
Though  shrewdly  we  have  striven 
Long  nights  and  bloody  days — 
But  unto  thee,  O  Lord  !" 

The  fierce  sounds  rolled  along  the  front,  from 
corps  to  corps,  till  one  half  of  the  host  had  kindled 
with  the  same  enthusiastic  confidence  and  swelled 
the  same  high  chorus  !  It  was  one  of  those  bright 
flashes  of  that  brightest  talent  in  a  leader,  the  talent 
of  inspiring  trust,  of  awakening  energy  and  zeal, 
of  lighting  into  sudden  flame  the  hearts  of  thou 
sands  by  a  single  word — -a  talent,  by-the-way,  in 
which  no  captain  ever  has  excelled,  and  probably 
but  two*  have  ever  in  the  least  degree  approached 
the  wondrous  man  who  was  that  very  day  about 
to  make  himself  a  reputation  with  the  mightiest. 
As  the  thunders  of  that  glorious  psalm  rolled  on 
ward,  gaining  strength  at  every  pause,  and  echoing 
for  miles  around,  doubt  and  despondency  passed 
instantly  away — pulses,  that  but  an  hour  before 
had  throbbed  with  cold  and  feeble  beatings,  now 
leaped  exultingly — eyes,  that  had  rested  sullenly 


CROMWELL.  253 

upon  the  earth,  flashed  cheerfully  and  vividly  to 
the  new-risen  sun — and  tongues,  that  had  half 
uttered  words  of  evil  omen,  and  almost  of  fear, 
now  swelled  the  warlike  anthem  to  the  skies. 
Before  the  psalm  had  yet  well  ceased,  and  while 
its  echoes  were  still  alive  and  ringing  in  the  air, 
the  pikeheads  of  the  royal  foot  might  be  seen 
twinkling  in  the  level  sunbeams  above  the  cop 
pices  and  furze-brakes  that  fringed  the  east  side 
of  the  plain.  And  now  a  massive  column  burst 
into  open  view,  their  bright  steel  sallets  and  their 
coats  of  plate  reflecting  in  broad  sheets  the  light, 
which  flashed  in  long  and  dazzling  streaks  from 
their  tall  weapons  as  they  wheeled  up  into  line 
— and  now  a  strong  brigade  of  field  artillery,  its 
caissons  and  its  tumbrils  following,  came  rum 
bling  up  at  a  full  trot — and  now,  with  many  a 
blazoned  standard  streaming,  and  a  white  sea  of 
plumes  floating  above  them,  squadron  after  squad 
ron  of  that  superb  and  highborn  cavalry,  to  which 
the  king  owed  all  his  previous  victories,  rounded  a 
distant  wood,  and  formed  in  accurate  array  upon 
the  royal  left.  Then,  as  these  formed,  the  heads 
of  column  after  column  debouched  upon  the  plain, 
their  mounted  leaders  darting  along  their  flanks 
and  fronts,  their  music  sounding  joyously,  and  the 
thick  trampling  of  their  march  shaking  the  very 
ground  beneath  them — as  these  fell  in,  another 
train  of  field-pieces  and  a  yet  more  magnificent 
array  of  horse  wheeled  up  at  the  full  gallop,  and 
fronted  Cromwell's  ironsides  at  a  mile's  distance 
on  the  open  plain.  By  seven  of  the  clock  both 
armies  were  in  full  array  of  battle,  facing  each 
other,  when  a  gallant  group  of  mounted  officers 
advanced  a  little  from  the  centre  of  the  cavaliers, 
and  instantly,  amid  the  blare  of  trumpets  and  the 
exulting  shouts  "  God  save  the  king"  of  the  brave 
VOL.  L— Y 


254  CROMWELL. 

gentlemen  who  mustered  under  it,  the  royal  stand 
ard,  with  its  gorgeous  quarterings,  was  displayed 
to  the  light  breeze,  which  bore  its  folds  to  their 
full  length,  and  shook  them  toward  the  squadrons 
of  its  unrelenting  foes.     At  the  same   moment, 
from  the  midst  of  the  dark  masses  of  the  puritans, 
coldly  arrayed  in  buff  and  plain  gray  steel,  with 
neither  scarf,  nor  plume,  nor  lace  of  silver  or  of 
gold  to  break  the  dull  monotony  of  their  appear 
ance,  was  hoisted  the  blue  banner  of  the  covenant, 
bearing  St.  George's  cross  of  red,  but  not  yet  in 
tersected    by  the    white   diagonals   of  Scotland's 
patron  saint.     The  elevation  of  this  broad  dark- 
coloured  sheet  was  greeted  by  a  stern  and  solemn 
acclamation,  as  different  from  the  wild  and  ani 
mated  clamour  of  the  cavaliers  as  is  the  deep  in 
cessant  booming  of  the  ocean-surf  from  the  sharp 
keen  explosions  of  a  thunder-storm.    Then  follow 
ed  a  short  pause — a  fearful  and  appalling  interval 
of  quiet,  like  the  brief  space  that  often  intervenes 
between  the  mustering  of   the  storm-clouds    and 
the  outbreaking  of  the  hurricane.     The  faces  of 
the  bravest  paled,  and  their  pulses  beat  with  a 
quickened  and  irregular  motion,  not  from  the  slight 
est  touch  of  fear,  but  from  the  intense  violence  of 
their  excitement.     Prayers  were  recited  in  this 
interval  at  the  head  of  every  regiment  among  the 
parliamentarians,  and  many  of  the  officers — and 
not  a  few  even  of  the  private  troopers — men  whom 
the  spirit  of  the  Lord  had  blessed  with  the  high 
gift  of  expounding  mysteries — held  forth  in  their 
wild  jargon,  savouring  to  the  ears  of  Edgar  rather 
of  blasphemous  and  profane  phrensy  than  of  devo 
tion  or  well-ordered  piety.     It  was  at  this  con 
juncture — just  as  Cromwell  had  concluded  a  long 
and  fervent  prayer,  tinctured  at  times  with  true 
heartfelt  religion,  bursting  occasionally  into  gleams 


CROMWELL.  255 

of  real  eloquence,  and  throughout  fixing  the  atten 
tion  of  the  zealots,  who  applauded  him  from  time 
to  time  with  voice  and  gesture — that  the  same 
group  of  officers  which  had  displayed  the  royal 
standard  galloped  in  full  career  along  the  whole 
front  of  the  cavaliers  midway  between  the  armies. 
The  leading  officer,  as  Edgar  gazed  upon  him 
through  his  perspective-glass,  was  a  tall,  strong 
ly-built,  and  splendidly-accoutred  man,  superbly 
mounted  on  a  jet-black  barb  of  the  tall  breed  of 
Dongola — his  cuirass  literally  blazed  with  stars 
and  decorations  of  a  dozen  military  orders ;  his 
mantle  of  dark  purple  velvet,  fringed  and  laid  down 
with  lace  of  gold  three  inches  broad,  displayed  the 
diamond  insignia  of  the  garter,  and  his  high- 
crowned  Spanish  hat  was  overshadowed  by  an 
ostrich  plume  nearly  two  feet  in  height.  Yet  were 
his  features  coarse  and  ill-favoured,  marked  with  a 
supercilious  sneer,  and  an  expression  ill-humoured, 
haughty,  and  imperious ;  his  hair,  which  flowed 
far  down  his  shoulders,  was  harsh  and  quite 
uncurled  ;  his  figure,  too,  though  tall  and  powerful, 
was  graceless ;  his  body  corpulent  and  gross, 
betraying  symptoms  of  debauchery  and  license, 
as  plainly  as  his  countenance  reflected  a  mind  de 
spotic,  brutal,  and  self-willed.  The  most  profound 
respect  attended  his  swift  passage  through  the 
lines,  and  ever  and  anon  some  change  of  station 
or  some  delicate  manoeuvre  was  executed  on  his 
bidding ;  but,  when  he  reached  the  extreme  right 
of  the  royalists,  he  paused  some  time  in  deep  and 
earnest  contemplation  of  the  post  occupied  by 
Cromwell  with  his  cavalry,  which  were  even  then 
engaged  in  chanting  one  of  their  vengeful  and 
prophetic  hymns.  Then  sending  off  a  dozen  offi 
cers  on  the  full  spur  in  different  directions,  he 
cantered  coolly  forward  with  but  two  attendants, 


256  CROMWELL. 

and  these  private  troopers,  till  he  was  distant  scarce 
three  musket  shots  from  the  grim  ironsides.  Here 
he  again  drew  in  his  horse,  leaped  to  the  ground, 
and,  levelling  his  glass  upon  the  pommel  of  his 
demipique,  swept  the  array  of  Oliver  with  careful 
scrutiny.  Edward  had  from  the  first  concluded  that 
this  leader  was  no  other  than  the  impetuous  and 
daring  Rupert ;  had  he,  however,  doubted  it,  the 
bitter  imprecations  and  fierce  shouts  of  the  excited 
puritans,  to  whom  his  cruelty  and  his  successes 
had  rendered  him  an  object  of  especial  hatred, 
must  have  at  once  convinced  him.  But  he  had 
little  time  for  observation;  for  Rupert,  in  his 
audacious  reconnaissance,  had,  as  it  seemed,  mis 
calculated  his  own  distance  from  Frizell's  Scotch 
dragoons,  or  overlooked  the  ditch  that  ran  obliquely 
from  their  station  to  a  point  within  a  few  yards  of 
the  elevation  he  had  chosen,  as  commanding  much 
of  the  parliament's  position — an  oversight  which 
escaped  not  that  experienced  officer.  A  dozen  of 
his  men,  as  the  prince  halted,  had  dismounted 
from  their  horses,  and,  with  their  arquebuses 
ready  and  their  matches  lighted,  stole  on  from 
bush  to  bush,  behind  the  bank,  unseen  and  unsus 
pected  by  the  engrossed  and  anxious  leader,  till 
within  short  carbine  distance — then,  flash  after 
flash,  their  scattering  fire  burst  from  the  willow- 
bushes  and  the  tufts  of  flags  that  lined  the  water 
course — and,  ere  the  sharp  reports  had  reached  the 
ears  of  Ardenne,  one  of  the  prince's  followers 
leaped  up  in  his  saddle,  and  fell  dead  at  his  gener 
al's  feet,  while  the  perspective-glass  dashed  from 
his  fingers,  and  the  white  plume  severed  by  an 
other  bullet,  showed  how  well-aimed  and  narrow 
ly-escaped  had  been  the  volley  destined  for  Ru 
pert's  person.  The  charger  of  the  fallen  troop 
er  dashed  masterless  across  the  field,  followed 


CROMWELL,  257 

with  nearly  equal  speed  by  the  surviving  soldier, 
who  halted  not  till  he  had  reached  his  comrades — 
but  he  whose  life  was  aimed  at  more  peculiarly 
did  not  so  much  as  look  toward  the  enemy,  whose 
fire  had  so  nigh  slain  him,  till  he  had  raised  his 
follower  from  the  bloody  sod,  and  ascertained  that 
aid  was  useless.  Then,  quietly  remounting,  he 
shook  his  clinched  hand  in  the  air  at  the  dragoons, 
who  had  reloaded  and  were  now  in  open  view 
preparing  for  a  second  shot,  and  trotted  leisurely 
away  toward  his  chosen  horsemen. 

Scarce  had  this  passed  ere  Edgar's  notice  was 
attracted  by  the  raised  voice  of  Cromwell,  on 
whom  he  had  been  hitherto  in  close  attendance, 
but  who  had  ridden  a  short  space  to  the  left  to  give 
some  orders  to  the  colonel  of  one  of  his  own  regi 
ments.  His  words  were  lost  to  Ardenne  from 
the  distance ;  but,  by  the  short  stern  intonation  of 
his  accents,  he  knew  that  something  was  amiss, 
and  galloped  up  to  him  at  once.  The  officer  whom 
Cromwell  had  addressed  was  sitting  motionless 
before  his  regiment,  his  bridle  loose  upon  his 
charger's  neck,  his  open  hands  raised  upward,  his 
dull  and  heavy  features  lighted  up  by  a  phrensied 
glare,  and  his  voice  rolling  forth  sentence  after  sen 
tence  of  unconnected  texts,  strung,  as  it  were,  to 
gether  by  a  running  commentary  of  his  own  ill- 
digested  ravings. 

"  Heard  you  me  not  ?  Ho  !  Colonel  Obadiah 
Jepherson,"  shouted  the  general  close  in  his 
ears,  his  features  kindling  and  his  voice  quiver 
ing  with  rage,  "  heard  you  me  not  command  you 
straightway  to  despatch  troops  to  bring  up  the  fas 
cines,  that,  when  we  list  advance,  we  may  have 
wherewithal  to  cross  the  ditch !  Heard  you  not, 
or  do  you  dare  to  disobey  me  ?" 

"  Must  I  not,  then,"  replied  the  other,  in  a 
Y2 


258  CROMWELL. 

drawling  tone,  "  as  Balak  said  to  Balaam,  '  must  I 
not  take  heed  to  speak  that  which  the  Lord  hath 
put  into  my  mouth  ?'  "  and,  turning  toward  the 
troops,  he  again  went  on — "  Wherefore  be  ye  as 
those,  O  brethren,  whom  the  Lord  set  apart  to 
Gideon—" 

But  not  for  many  words  did  he  continue  his 
oration;  for,  plunging  both  his  spurs  up  to  the 
rowel-heads  into  his  mighty  charger,  and  plucking 
forth  a  pistol  from  his  holster,  Oliver  dashed 
against  him.  Leaving  the  rein  at  liberty,  by  the 
mere  pressure  of  his  limbs  he  wheeled  the  horse, 
as  he  was  on  the  point  of  riding  down  his  disobe 
dient  officer,  and,  seizing  with  his  left  hand  the 
collar  of  his  buff  coat,  with  the  right  he  pressed 
the  muzzle  of  his  weapon  to  his  temples ;  and  with 
such  violence  that,  when  the  pistol  was  withdrawn, 
a  livid  ring  remained  on  the  indented  and  discol 
oured  flesh. 

"  Now,  by  the  Lord  that  liveth,"  he  hissed  be 
tween  his  set  teeth,  but  in  a  whisper  so  emphatic 
and  distinct  that  all  around  him  heard  it — "  if  you 
but  wink  an  eyelid,  much  more  speak,  or  move  to 
disobey  me,  it  were  better  for  thee  thou  hadst 
ne'er  been  born  !  Away  !  and  do  my  bidding,  dog, 
or  you  shall  die  the  death" — and,  as  he  spoke,  he 
shook  him  off  so  suddenly  that  he  had  well  nigh 
lost  his  saddle  as  he  turned  hastily  away  to  set 
about  his  duty  with  as  much  alacrity  as  though 
he  did  so  of  his  own  free  will.  At  the  same  time 
a  loud  sharp  roar  told  that  the  action  had  com 
menced  ;  and,  riding  once  more  to  his  station,  Ed 
ward  beheld  a  snow-white  cloud  surge  slowly  up 
toward  the  royal  left — a  bright  flash  followed — • 
another  burst  of  dense  and  solid  smoke — another 
sharp  explosion — and  then,  each  after  each,  they 
woke  the  cannon  of  the  cavaliers,  till  their  whole 


CROMWELL.  259 

front  was  veiled  in  wreathed  smoke,  drifting  to 
ward  the  parliament's  array,  and  filling  all  the  in 
termediate  space  as  with  a  palpable  and  massive 
substance — while  the  continuous  and  deafening  roar 
precluded  for  a  while  the  possibility  of  hearing,  and 
almost  of  thought.  Anon  the  answering  ordnance 
of  the  puritans  belched  forth  its  flame  and  smoke, 
and  added  its  din  to  the  awful  uproar.  At  times, 
when  the  clouds  melted  for  a  moment  under  the 
freshening  breeze,  Edgar  and  his  yet  more  observ 
ant  leader  might  catch  glances  of  the  royal  pike- 
men  pouring  in  solid  columns  to  the  charge,  the 
long  lines  of  their  levelled  weapons  glittering 
through  the  smoke — or,  farther  to  their  right,  the 
masses  of  their  horse,  wheeling  like  flights  of 
seabirds  to  and  fro — now  all  in  gorgeous  sun 
shine,  and  now  all  in  gloom.  Meanwhile  the  rat 
tling  of  the  musketry  was  mingled  with  the  deeper 
bellowing  of  cannon  ;  and,  among  all  and  over  all, 
the  thundering  accents  of  that  most  potent  of  all 
vocal  instruments,  the  voice  of  man,  pealed  upward 
to  the  polluted  heavens.  A  long  half  hour  elapsed, 
and  they  might  hear  the  battle  raging  at  every  in 
stant  fiercer  toward  their  right,  yet  they  remained 
still  unengaged  themselves,  and  without  tidings  or 
directions  how  to  act. 

"  By  Heaven,"  cried  Ardenne,  as  he  caught  the 
distant  glitter  of  the  royal  standard  floating  among 
the  smoke  almost  within  the  puritan  position — "  by 
Heaven,  our  right  must  be  repulsed ;"  and,  as  he 
spoke,  an  aid-de-camp  dashed  in,  wounded  and 
ghastly,  from  the  right ;  and,  as  he  reined  his  char 
ger  up,  the  gallant  brute  fell  lifeless  under  him. 
"  Fairfax  is  beaten  back,  and  all  our  right  wing 
scattered,"  he  exclaimed  as  he  arose. 

"  Silence,  man,"  Cromwell  sternly  interrupted 
him.  "  Wouldst  thou  dismay  all  these  ?  Say  on — 


260  CROMWELL. 

but  here  apart,  and  not  above  your  breath,  an  you 
would  live  to  speak  it  out !  Say  on  !" 

"  Fairfax  is  beaten  utterly,  and  all  the  right  wing 
broken — you  may  not  find  two  score  of  it  together. 
As  he  charged  through  yon  accursed  lane,  the 
musketry  of  Belial  mowed  his  ranks  like  grass 
before  the  scythe — and  lo  !  the  sons  of  Zeruiah — " 

"  Tush  !  tell  me  not  of  Belial  and  of  Zeruiah ! 
or,  by  the  life  of  the  Eternal,  I  will  smite  thee  with 
my  truncheon  !  Speak  out  in  plain  blunt  English," 
again  interrupted  Oliver.  "  Fairfax  was  broken — 
and  what  then  ?" 

"  His  Yorkshire  levies,  flying  all  disorderly,"  re 
plied  the  officer,  confused  and  panting  still  from 
the  effects  of  his  late  fall,  "  trampled  beneath  their 
feet  and  utterly  dispersed  Lord  Ferdinando's  foot ; 
Balgony's  lancers  only  broke  one  royal  regiment, 
and  stout  Sir  Thomas,  with  but  six  troops  of  all 
our  northern  horse,  has  cut  his  passage  through 
the  cavaliers.  These  are  now  struggling  hither- 
ward — the  rest  are  routed  past  redemption!  Lu 
cas,  and  Porter,  and  the  malignant  Goring  are  play 
ing  havoc  on  the  flank  of  our  best  Scottish  foot,  and 
Newcastle,  with  all  his  whitecoats,  is  winning  way 
in  front  at  the  pike's  point." 

"  What  message  from  the  general  ?  Quick,  sir," 
cried  Cromwell — "quick!" 

"  That  you  draw  out  with  all  despatch,  and 
charge  Prince  Rupert !" 

"  Why  said  you  not  so  sooner  ?"  Oliver  replied. 
<(  Thou,  Righteous  Lambert,  ride  to  Jepherson ; 
bid  him  advance  with  the  fascines  and  fill  yon 
ditch  !  Hulton  and  Barnaby,  off  with  you  to  the 
first  and  second  regiments  ;  we  will  advance  and 
cross  the  drain  at  a  brisk  trot,  and — Ha !  their 
ordnance  ceases  on  the  left ;  Rupert  will  meet  us 
straightway  !  Forward ! — advance  !  Ardenne,  be 


CROMWELL.  261 

near  me  thou !  Forward  !  Sound  trumpets ;"  and  at 
a  quick  trot  they  advanced,  but  in  the  deepest  si 
lence,  save  for  the  clashing  of  their  armour  and  the 
earth-shaking  clatter  of  their  hoofs.  "  Ha  !"  Oli 
ver  exclaimed  again,  as  a  quick  spattering  volley 
on  their  left  was  heard  distinctly,  though  the  smoke- 
wreaths  were  too  closely  packed  to  suffer  objects 
to  be  seen  above  a  spear's  length  distant — "  there 
goes  the  musketry  of  Frizell — and  now  we  clear 
the  smoke  !"  and,  even  with  the  words,  they  passed 
the  ditch,  which  was  filled  level  with  the  surface 
just  at  the  moment  of  their  reaching  it;  and,  as 
they  passed  it,  the  dense  clouds  from  the  royal 
cannon,  which,  after  the  discharge  had  ceased,  sail 
ed  sluggishly  down  wind  and  hung  about  the  puri 
tans  some  minutes  longer  than  around  the  cavaliers, 
soared  slowly  upward,  and  disclosed  the  whole  of 
that  eventful  field.  One  glance  showed  Cromwell 
that  the  whole  right  of  their  position  was  indeed, 
broken — scattered  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven 
— and  that  their  centre,  though  supported  by  th ; 
whole  reserve,  could  scarce  maintain  itself  agair  i. 
the  desperate  odds  with  which  it  was  engaged ; 
though,  by  the  fast  and  rattling  volleys,  and  the 
repeated  charges  of  the  pikemen,  he  saw  that  all 
was  not  yet  over ! 

The  second  glance  showed  him  the  prince  in 
person,  with  the  whole  gallant  cavalry  of  his  right 
wing,  advancing  at  full  trot  to  charge  him,  with 
scarce  five  hundred  yards  between  them ;  while  a 
strong  mass  of  pikemen,  intent  on  turning  the  ex 
treme  left  of  the  Scottish  centre,  had  advanced  so 
far  beyond  their  horse  as  to  expose  a  portion  of 
their  own  right  flank.  "  Ardenne  !"  he  shouted, 
with  a  voice  clear  as  a  trumpet,  "  away  !  A  flyhig 
charge  upon  the  flank  of  yon  pike-regiment — ride 
over  them,  wheel  promptly,  and  fall  in  upon  the 


262  CROMWELL. 

left  flank  of  Prince  Rupert !  Buxton,  ride  thou  to 
Frizell,  and  tell  him  not  to  charge,  but  to  deploy 
and  to  maintain  his  fire  !  for  life !  for  life !  Now 
for  the  work.  Gallop  !  ho  !  Charge  !  Down  with 
the  sons  of  Zeru'iah  !  Ha !  ha !  the  sword  of  the 
Lord  and  of  Gideon  !" 

An  instant  was  enough ;  his  messengers  rode 
like  the  wind ;  and  with  a  mighty  shout,  that  rose 
above  the  thousand  fearful  sounds  that  mingled  to 
make  up  the  thundrous  voice  of  battle,  the  ironsides 
plunged  headlong  on  the  advancing  cavaliers.  Five 
thousand  horse  at  least  on  either  side,  splendid  in 
all  the  vain  equipments  that  cast  a  false  and  fleeting 
light  of  glory  over  the  ghastly  face  of  havoc  !  On 
they  went — man  to  man,  and  horse  to  horse,  pant 
ing  for  bloodshed  as  for  the  breath  of  life — drunk 
with  excitement — thoughtless  of  all  except  the 
present !  The  trumpets  of  the  royalists  were 
scarcely  audible  among  the  yells  and  shouts  of  the 
wild  fanatics.  "  Ha  !  Zerubbabel !  Down  with 
the  cursed  of  God  !  Ho  !  Napthali ;  on,  Benjamin  ! 
Strike,  and  spare  not !  strike  in  his  name — even 
his  own  name,  JAH  !"  The  phrensy  of  their  onset, 
for  they  charged  like  madmen  rather  than  cool  and 
steady  veterans,  together  with  the  slight  confusion 
which  always  must  be  felt  by  an  assailing  party, 
which  in  the  very  moment  of  attack  is  suddenly 
assailed,  would  have  gone  hard  against  the  cava 
liers  ;  but  when  to  this  was  added  the  continual 
and  well-aimed  fire  of  Frizell's  Scotch  dragoons, 
cutting  down  horse  and  man  along  their  right  by 
hundreds ;  and  when  the  fresh  and  gallant  regi 
ment  of  Ardenne,  which — having  fallen  at  an  ob 
lique  tangent  on  the  right  flank  of  the  pikemen, 
and  driven  through  them  like  a  thunderbolt  with 
an  unbroken  front — had  wheeled,  without  a  second's 
pause,  above  the  dead  and  dying,  as  orderly  as  on 


CROMWELL.  263 

parade,  and  charged  full  on  the  naked  left  of  Ru 
pert's  cavalry — it  was  no  wonder  that  they  were 
cast  into  complete  and  irretrievable  disorder  !    For 
some  time  all  was  close  and  deadly  conflict — for 
such  was  the  ecstatic  valour  of  the  gentlemen  who 
battled  for  the  crown,  and  such  the  rash  and  stubborn 
daring  of  their  leader,  that  they  persisted  still,  ral 
lying  in  squadrons  or  in  troops — when  their  whole 
line    was    broken  and  confused — and   still,  when 
these  were  routed,  rushed  on  in  desperate  knots  of 
ten  or  twelve  against  the  victors,  and  dealt  them 
death  on  every  hand,  with  pistol,  carbine-but,  and 
broadsword  !     Five  times,  at  least,  did  Rupert  rally 
his  own  regiment,  and  bring  it  up  to  be  again  re 
pulsed  ;  and,  in  the  last  charge,  singling  Ardenne 
out,  whose  prowess  he  had  noticed  in  the  melee, 
he  drove  his  horse  against  him,  and  smote  him 
such  a  blow  as  shivered  the  tried  rapier  which  he 
raised  to  guard  it  to  the  hilt,  and,  falling  thence 
with  scarce  abated  violence  upon  his  morion,  cleft 
it  down  to  the  hair,  but,  deadened  by  the  trusty 
steel,  inflicted  no  wound  on  the  wearer.     It  was 
well  for  Edgar  that  at  this  moment  a  fresh  charge 
by  Fairfax,  Crawford,  and  Balgony,  who  had  come 
up  from  the  right  wing  across  the  rear,  was  made 
with  equal  skill  and  execution — while  Cromwell 
drew  off  and   reformed  his   troops — bearing   the 
prince  and  all  his  bravest  backward,  pushing  his 
squadrons,  utterly  defeated,  clear  off  the  field,  and 
chasing  them  with  fearful  havoc  to  the  very  walls 
of  York. 

A  little  interval  ensued  while  they  called  off 
their  stragglers,  eager  for  vengeance,  and  scattered 
by  the  melee  ;  but,  ere  ten  minutes  had  elapsed, 
the  ironsides,  though  thinned  in  number  and  above 
half  of  them  wounded,  were  under  their  own  col 
ours  and  in  their  regular  ranks.  Ten  minutes  more 


264  CROMWELL. 

flew  by,  and  nothing  was  yet  done — they  held  the 
ground  with  not  a  foe  before  them — white  on  their 
right  the  enemy's  whole  infantry,  whose  flank,  by 
the  defeat  of  Rupert,  was  open  to  their  charge,  was 
gradually  pushing  back  their  own  foot,  step  by  step, 
at  the  pike's  point,  from  their  position.  Amazed 
at  this  delay,  and  fearing  some  mishap,  Ardenne 
intrusted  his  command  to  his  lieutenant,  and, 
mounting  a  fresh  horse,  galloped  off  in  search  of 
Cromwell,  whom  he  found  bleeding  fast  from  two 
wounds,  both  above  his  shoulders — one  in  the  neck, 
a  graze,  as  it  was  said,  by  a  chance  pistol-shot  from 
his  own  men  ;  the  other  a  smart  sword-cut  on  the 
collar-bone — and  evidently  faint  and  failing  from 
the  loss  of  blood. 

"  A  surgeon,  ho  !"  cried  Edgar ;  "  bear  him  away 
to  the  rear !" 

"  Not  for  the  world,"  said  Oliver,  in  a  low  voice, 
but  stern.  "  Shall  I  go  while  the  Lord  has  need 
of  me  ?  Form  to  the  right,  brave  hearts,  and  fol 
low  me  !  The  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon !" 
and,  making  a  last  effort  to  lead  them  to  the  charge, 
he  tottered  in  his  stirrups,  and  would  have  fallen 
had  not  two  subalterns  supported  him  and  borne 
him  to  the  rear. 

"  What  now,  lieutenant  colonel  ?"  exclaimed 
Jepherson  from  the  head  of  the  next  regiment  as 
Cromwell  was  conveyed  away. 

"  Heard  you  not  then  the  general's  order  ?"  an 
swered  Ardenne.  "  Each  regiment  form  open  col 
umn  to  the  right  by  troops,  and  charge  all  on  the 
flank  of  yon  dense  mass  of  musketeers  and  pike- 
men  !  Thou,  Jepherson,  wheel  round  upon  the  rear 
of  yon  brigade  of  whitecoats — thou,  Desborough, 
cut  thy  way  through  yonder  pikemen.  Sound  trum 
pets  !  forward  all !" 

And  on  they  went,  with  nothing  to  oppose  or 


CROMWELL.  265 

stand  before  them.  Regiment  after  regiment,  taken 
in  flank' or  rear,  were  cut  down,  trampled  under 
foot,  dashed  out  of  the  very  shape  and  semblance 
of  array.  But  now  they  reached  the  whitecoats ; 
Newcastle's  own  brigade,  of  musketeers  and  pike- 
men  mingled,  four  thousand  strong,  picked  men, 
flushed  with  success  and  valiant.  Well  was  it 
then  that  Ardenne  had  wheeled  Jepherson  upon 
their  rear ;  for,  as  he  came  upon  their  flank,  while 
they  were  fighting  hard  in  front  with  the  Scotch 
infantry,  they  formed  a  second  face  with  admirable 
skill,  and  opened  on  him  such  a  fire  from  their 
second  and  rear  ranks  as  emptied  wellnigh  half 
his  saddles,  while  their  pikes  presented  an  im 
penetrable  rampart  against  his  gallant  horses. 
With  difficulty  he  rallied  his  own  regiment  and 
again  brought  it  to  the  charge  ;  and,  at  the  self 
same  instant,  Jepherson  burst  upon  their  rear.  As 
sailed  upon  three  sides  at  once,  they  hjroke  ;  but 
fought  it  out  even  then,  standing  in  small  groups, 
back  to  back,  refusing  quarter  to  the  last,  and  lying 
in  their  lines  when  dead  as  they  had  fought  when 
living !  Oh,  noble  victims  !  thanklessly  sacrificed 
in  the  upholding  of  a  tyrant  against  their  country's 
freedom  !  slain  innocently  in  an  evil  cause  !  Alas  ! 
alas  !  for  their  free  English  blood,  poured  out  like 
water  on  their  native  soil,  not  to  defend,  but  to 
destroy  its  liberties  ! 

With  the  destruction  of  the  whitecoats  the  bat 
tle  in  truth  ended;  for,  though  agreencoaied  brig 
ade  still  offered  stout  resistance,  it  was  but  a  last 
effort  of  despair.  The  parliament's  whole  centre, 
now  relieved  from  their  assailants,  moved  steadily 
and  promptly  up,  pursuing  the  advantage  gained 
by  the  gallant  ironsides,  and  pressing  on  the  scat 
tered  parties  of  the  royalists  with  such  relentless 
zeal,  that  they  could  never  rally  till  they  had  reach- 

VOL.  L— Z 


266  CROMWELL. 

ed  the  walls  of  York.  Whole  squadrons  pushed 
into  the  Ouse,  were  drowned  in  its  deep  waters,  or 
pitilessly  slaughtered  on  its  banks.  The  cavalry, 
with  Ardenne  at  their  head,  meanwhile  still  drove 
right,  onward  ;  and,  wonderful  to  tell,  traversed  the 
whole  position  of  the  enemy,  j#om  end  to  end,  in 
perfect  and  unbroken  order,  sweeping  the  relics 
of  that  disastrous  fight  before  them  as  the  surf 
drives  the  wreck  which  its  own  violence  has  made 
before  its  foaming  waters.  Then,  having  reached 
the  farthest  royal  left,  they  wheeled  once  more  to 
the  right,  and  actually  occupied  the  ground  which 
Lucas,  with  his  cavaliers,  had  held  at  the  beginning 
of  the  action.  The  only  enemy  now  left  upon  the 
field  were  these  same  victors ;  who,  having  con 
quered  Fairfax  and  his  tumultuary  levies,  had 
pressed  with  much  success  upon  the  flank  of 
Manchester's  and  Lindsay's  regiments  of  foot,  till 
these, stouj  squadrons,  when  relieved  by  Edgar's 
overwhelming  charge  upon  their  enemies  in  front, 
found  leisure  to  concentrate  all  their  efforts  against 
the  cavalry  which  had  so  nigh  defeated  them,  and 
were  in  turn  repulsing  them ;  when,  on  the  very 
spot  where  they  had  first  480  roughly  handled 
Fairfax  and  his  northern  horse,  Ardenne  fell  on 
them  unawares,  and  well  avenged  his  comrades. 
In  this  last  conflict  the  ground  was  broken  with 
steep  banks  and  scattered  buslies,  and  the  deep 
channel  of  the  drain  alluded  to  above.  Here,  as 
before,  the  fight  was  obstinate,  and  hand  to  hand, 
among  the  troops — when,  just  as  Edgar's  men  drove 
Lucas  back,  killing  his  horse  and  making  himself 
prisoner,  while  all  was  smoke,  and  tumult,  and 
confusion,  a  small  but  well-appointed  troop  of  cava 
liers  wheeled  round  some  alder-bushes  and  charged 
home.  These,  for  a  moment,  threw  his  force  into 
disorder,  but  unsupported  and  too  weak  in  numbers, 


CROMWELL.  267 

they  fell  fast,  and  at  the  last  drew  off — their  leader 
fighting  desperately  to  cover  their  retreat,  till  a 
shot  struck  his  charger ;  and,  as  he  .rolled  upon 
the  gory  and  hoof-dinted  sod,  a  savage  fanatic 
shortened  his  sword  to  stab  the  prostrate  rider. 
Edgar's  eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  gray  hairs 
ard  noble  features  that  were  now  disclosed,  blood 
stained  and  ghastly,  by  the  falling  of  his  battered 
morion.  With  a  fierce  cry  he  bounded  from  his 
horse — he  was — he  was  in  time  !  He  struck  one 
rapier  up,  received  another,  which  he  could  not 
parry,  in  his  own  sword-arm  ;  but  he  had  saved 
his  father.  It  was  not  he  alone,  however,  who 
had  perceived  Sir  Henry's  peril — a  desperate  rally 
of  his  followers  was  made  to  rescue  him — the  tide 
of  fight  had  rolled  away  after  the  flying  cavaliers 
of  Lucas  ;  and  in  an  instant,  ere  he  could  strike  a 
blow  or  shout  his  war  cry,  Ardenne,  second  to 
Cromwell  only  as  the  winner  of  that  bloody  day, 
was  made  a  captive,  and  borne  off  at  a  gallop  by 
the  flyers  from  that  very  field  on  which  his  con 
duct  and  his  valour  had  retrieved  the  fortunes  of 
his  party  when  on  the  very  verge  of  absolute  anni 
hilation. 


END    OP    VOL.    I. 


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